The Agent and the Human Torch - Alternative Reunions
by CeliaEquus
Summary: In 'The Agent and the Human Torch', Johnny Storm and Phil Coulson got back together in the final reel, after six years of being apart. But how could they have been brought back together sooner, were the world a kinder place? Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers or Fantastic 4, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this. Coulstorm!
1. Holding Hands

**Excerpt from chapter two, and deviates from there on. When they meet at the party Tony has thrown for Phil.**

"Holding Hands"

"_Hi," Johnny said. He awkwardly stuck out one hand. Phil hesitated, then took it. "Great to see you again. Heard you had a brush with death?"_

"_It wouldn't be the first time," Phil said. "And it's not like you've never faced death before, either."_

_Johnny realised that they were still holding hands, but he didn't want it to end, despite the shivers it sent up his arm._ When Phil flexed his hand, like he was about to let go, Johnny tightened his grip, unwilling to let this stop just yet. Phil squeezed back.

"This is…" He trailed off. Johnny swallowed.

"Yeah," he said. "We should…"

They fell silent, still unable to let go. Johnny moved closer, and heard a hitch in Phil's throat.

"You shouldn't have left me," Johnny said.

"I know," Phil said.

"…You know?"

"Pretty much as soon as I stepped out the door. I wanted you to come after me. Is that bad?"

"_Yes_," Johnny said, scowling. "I should've run after you, Phil."

"But… why would you want to? We weren't in a real relationship."

"Okay, let's just stop that right now. We _were_ in a relationship. I know we kept saying we weren't, but it's true."

"…Oh." Phil's cheeks turned slightly pink, and he looked down. Johnny knew they still hadn't let go of each other's hands yet, and he couldn't care less.

"I thought about you," he confessed.

"About me? When?" Phil asked.

"Kind of… every day? Hard not to when you always use the same shower where you lost your virginity."

Phil's jaw dropped. Johnny gave him a tight smile.

"Were you tired of me?" he asked. "I was half-asleep when you broke up with me; don't even remember the kiss. So… did you just not wanna be with me anymore?"

Phil shook his head. "No, Johnny. That's not why… But you need someone younger. I thought I was holding you back. We were together so much that it didn't seem like you had time to be with anyone else—"

"I didn't want anyone else, Phil. You're the only person I've been with since I became the Human Torch. Ever. No one… no one since you."

He ducked his head. Phil gripped his hand harder, and yanked Johnny close. He looked up in time for Phil to wrap his hand around the back of Johnny's neck, and pull him down into a kiss. It took a second for him to catch on. Then he wrapped his free arm around Phil's back, ignoring the cat-calls and applause, and returning the kiss full-heartedly.

When they finally let go, Johnny was holding Phil by the waist, and Phil's hands were cupping his elbows.

"Get a room!" Stark called. Johnny didn't want to stop touching Phil, otherwise he would've flipped the billionaire off.

"Sounds like a good idea, actually," Phil said, running a hand down to meet Johnny's, entwining their fingers. "Come on."

"Wait." Stark was at their side in an instant. "This is Agent's party."

Johnny felt annoyance flare at Stark using Johnny's nickname for Phil. "And?"

"And… he can't leave before we've even started."

"Tony," Phil said, looking at Stark. "Thank you. It's the best party anyone's ever given me."

"But it hasn't started yet!"

"It doesn't matter," Phil said, turning in to Johnny's side. "It's give me everything I want. Let everyone else enjoy the evening. I think I can enjoy myself more elsewhere. As you said, we should get a room."

Stark looked from Johnny back to Phil. "Nearest hotel. Send me the bill. Now get out of here. This isn't that kind of party."

Then he winked, and sauntered back to his girlfriend. Phil took him at his word, and nearly dragged Johnny out of the room and the convention centre. It would've been dragging if Johnny wasn't as desperate as Phil to get some privacy, and he soon matched Phil's pace. Stark's driver was waiting for them.

"The boss told me you needed a lift?" he said.

"Thanks, Happy," Phil said. Johnny slid in after him, doffing an imaginary hat at Stark's driver. (Was the guy's name really Happy? Well, Stark's girlfriend was Pepper, so anything was possible.)

"God, I've dreamed about this," Johnny said, and he rolled his eyes as Phil made sure their seatbelts were buckled first.

"Of what? We've done car sex."

"But not limo sex," Johnny said, wide-eyed. Happy coughed pointedly. "Anyway, I wasn't referring to that. I just meant… getting you alone again. So we could talk."

"You want to talk first?"

"I need you to know that this can't be a one-time thing. We were together for three years, and we've been apart for six. I can't… I just can't. Please don't leave me again."

Phil squeezed Johnny's hand, resting on the seat between them. "Never."

* * *

><p><strong>In most fics – and in the original 'Agent and Human Torch' – the pining couple eventually manage to let go, so I decided to explore what might have happened if Phil and Johnny had just kept holding on. I mean, what if feelings were so intense that letting go was almost physically impossible? Johnny and Phil were certainly holding hands for the first half of the fic, and started holding hands against only a few paragraphs later. Wow. I don't think I've ever written so much hand-holding before. The words are starting to lose meaning. What are hands?<strong>

**Anyway. Review, please! I'm glad people don't hate the idea of this fic. Not a story, technically, but it's a set of alternative get-back-togethers, so yeah. Any excuse for more Coulstorm until someone else starts writing this pairing seriously.**


	2. Get In His Pants

"Get In His Pants"

The Hulk wasn't the only green-eyed monster around; actually, since the Hulk wasn't 'out', it was just Johnny and his jealousy. He couldn't get those images out of his head: Phil talking to Captain America, Captain America and Phil laughing, Phil looking at Captain America the way he used to look at Johnny, Captain America and Phil kissing, having sex… oh God, the thought of them _making love_. It made Johnny feel sick, and alcohol wasn't going to help. He couldn't push away the thought of being used like that, for three damn years, like some lovesick idiot.

That's what it had to have been. Phil must have realised that it wasn't working out. Or maybe the decent guy inside of him thought it was better to let Johnny move on, and no longer be a substitute. Sometimes, Johnny thought that being a substitute would have been fine, as long as he got to keep Phil. But even if they'd still been together, as soon as Steve Rogers came on the scene, Johnny would have been dumped so fast his head would've spun.

Alright, that was unfair to Phil. He could admit that. Maybe he was even wrong about it. But Johnny had to know. Which is why, even though his brain knew it was a bad idea, his body moved towards Phil. He grabbed his ex by the arm and steered him away from the food table and into a darker corner.

"Is there a problem?" Phil asked. He wasn't exactly looking Johnny in the eye, but he'd never needed to when they were together. Johnny could tell when Phil was looking at him, and he'd felt that look a lot tonight.

"Yeah, there's a problem," Johnny said.

"What is it?"

"You. And me. And Captain America."

Phil's eyebrows pulled together. "I don't understand."

Johnny huffed. "When we were together…" Phil blushed – goddamn blushed – and looked into his near-empty glass. "Did you ever think about… him? I know I teased you about it, but that was just… it was an act, Phil. I didn't want it to be real."

"I still have no idea what you're talking about, Johnny. Could you speak English?"

"You know _damn well_ what I'm talking about, Phil! Did you sleep with me because I look kind of like Captain America?"

Phil had been mid-sip, and nearly choked. He swallowed quickly, and pulled Johnny over to the drinks table.

"I need liquor after that, but I'd better stick to something non-alcoholic," he said, and he drained a glass of water, then set it down again. He led them back to the corner. Johnny was getting more frustrated, and was seriously tempted to grab Phil's tie and… well, do something to him. It was a fine line between strangling him or kissing him. "You… you really think that I…"

"What am I supposed to think?" Johnny asked. "You never told me why we broke up. And then I see you with him, together, looking so happy, and I… I…" He trailed off, the pain in his chest growing more pronounced. He knew he was slumping, but he didn't care. If Phil was happy, he wasn't going to ruin that. "Forget it. I hope you have a happy… happy future togeth… I'm sorry. I have to go."

There was an iron grip on his arm before he could take more than a step. He was yanked back into place, and stared into Phil's stormy eyes.

God, he was handsome, especially when he was annoyed like this.

"You _honestly_ think that I'd sleep with you because you bear a passing physical resemblance to Steve Rogers?" Phil hissed. "Don't you know me at all? I'd never use someone like that, least of all y— a lover. You're really nothing like him, personality-wise, except for the saving people 'thing'."

"Gee, thanks," Johnny said petulantly. "I really needed to be reminded that I'm nothing like your childhood hero."

"But that's all he is," Phil said, shaking Johnny's arm. "For God's sake, whatever gave you the impression that I had romantic or sexual feelings for Captain America? I wanted to be like him, and I looked up to him. But I didn't know that you looked anything like him. It wasn't until after he came out of the ice that I heard some people draw comparisons; that's it. I didn't even see it myself until after I came out of my coma."

Johnny's cheeks burned up. He'd made a huge mistake, and given too much away. He could tell.

"So I wasn't just a consolation prize?" he said. Phil scowled.

"Of course not!" he snapped. "It's always been you, Johnny, and it always will be…"

Then Phil's eyes grew wide, and Johnny realised that he wasn't the one who'd given everything away.

"Phil…"

"Sorry," Phil said, letting go. He took a step back, hands twitching in a nervous gesture Johnny hadn't seen since before they got together almost a decade ago.

"Oh no, you don't," Johnny said, and he basically jumped Phil. He leapt forward, yanked him close, and kissed him the way he'd been wanting to for six years. He gave Phil almost no time to breathe before he kissed him again, slower this time, but no less desperate. It was a mash of lips, tongue, and teeth, messy and familiar, the kind of kisses they used to share if they hadn't seen each other for a week or more.

It seemed like no time had passed at all when Phil pushed him off. It was gentle, and he wound his hand around the back of Johnny's neck, keeping their foreheads pressed together.

"You gonna take me home?" Phil asked, his voice husky. Johnny could've taken him then, right against the wall. But it had to be a bed, maybe with some making out in the back of a cab. It'd been six freaking years, and he was going to do this right.

If he did, maybe Phil wouldn't leave him again.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, the reason I started writing this story is because I kept imagining other ways Johnny and Phil could've gotten back together, either in the course of 'The Agent and the Human Torch', or before it. Some of them were quite romantic, some of them heart-wrenching, and some with funnier moments. <strong>**I've worked them out as I've gone through the whole story, which is why they're not in chronological order, i.e. 2007-2013.**

**Review, review!**

**(And please, won't someone else write this pairing as well? Pleeeeease? There's so little of it that I want to cry.)**


	3. My Favourite Photograph

**Italicised excerpt from chapter three.**

"My Favourite Photograph"

_In the picture, Phil just happened to be on top at that moment, and looked like he was hovering over Johnny in some kind of cheesy romance film. Okay, they'd been having fun, so that's why they were smiling. And they just happened to be looking at each other because they were wrestling, after all. It didn't mean anything that one of Johnny's hands was on Phil's shoulder, the other at his side, or that one of Phil's hands was on Johnny's side and one on the floor. That was just because it was mid-wrestle._

_But whenever Johnny looked at the smile on Phil's face, and zoomed in to study the look in his eyes, it made his heart ache with want. Wanting that look focussed on him again, wanting the affection to have been real, wanting to go back in time and change it so that he stopped Phil that morning, yanked him back into bed, and never let him leave again._

"_Stop it," Johnny begged himself softly. "Don't… don't think like—"_

"_Johnny?"_

_He swivelled in his chair, surprised that it was Reed at the door. The scientist cocked his head, and Johnny_ went to close the file.

But one glance at it gave him pause. He stared at it, only moving again when Reed put a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I thought I was over him… it," Johnny said.

"Really? You believed that?"

Johnny scowled at his brother-in-law, who looked genuinely surprised. He slumped.

"Dude, I don't know what happened to me," he said. "I was never like this over any chick, not even when I was a kid, or when I thought I could move on with Frankie. It's like I can't fall in love with women, but I can with men?"

"Or just the one," Reed said, leaning against the desk beside Johnny. "You love him?"

"…What?"

"You said that you can't fall in love with women, but you can with men. Do you love Phil Coulson?"

"I…"

As he considered it, Johnny absently traced the outline of Phil's body, getting lost in the way they were pressed together. His gaze drifted back to Phil's smile, the way it seemed like it was only meant for Johnny. He thought about how much he wanted that again.

Body on autopilot, he printed out a copy of the image. He walked around Reed to pick it up from the printer, and blew gently on the ink.

"Want me to find a frame for it?" Reed asked.

"It's not going in a frame," Johnny said. He looked up at his sister's husband, who was watching him with raised eyebrows. "See ya later."

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"It's the middle of the night!" Reed's arms snapped around to block Johnny's path. He ducked under it and kept on walking.

"Yeah, well, I'm doing this before I wake up and think it's a bad idea," he said, passing Susan, who was wrapped in her dressing gown.

"Johnny?" she said.

"I've got business to see to," he said, and he strode towards the elevator. "Don't wait up for me."

"He's got that picture of Phil," Reed whispered, not quietly enough. Johnny rolled his eyes, and hit the ground floor button as soon as he got into the elevator. He waved at his family as the doors closed. On the descent, he folded the piece of A4 paper and tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket. Lucky for him it'd been the closest thing to hand when he found he couldn't sleep. Clashed with the pyjamas he was wearing, but he had more important things on his mind.

* * *

><p>Phil was quiet as he watched the others chattering over drinks before bed. He was still keyed up over the party; and, more to the point, over seeing Johnny Storm again. He'd been on edge for the rest of the night, and was sure that sleep would be a long time coming. So he allowed himself to be roped into a round of hot chocolates courtesy of Clint, their resident expert.<p>

"Thanks," he said, accepting his Captain America mug. He took a sip, and shivered as warmth spread down his throat to his chest. He crossed one leg over the other, neatly managing to avoid kicking the coffee table.

"Sir, there is a visitor," JARVIS said, putting a halt to all conversation. Phil wasn't the only one to put his drink down, although it was unlikely that JARVIS would announce a dangerous intruder so calmly. But who'd be visiting at this hour?

"Who is it?" Tony asked.

"The Human Torch."

Phil's stomach dropped.

"Johnny Storm?" he said.

"Yes, Agent Coulson."

"What the hell is he doing here?" Tony said. Phil was aware that it was only in the last year that Tony had become friendly acquaintances with the Fantastic Four (well, aware of it as of two hours ago), and that he was forming connections with Charles Xavier's kids through SHIELD. But apparently some kind of playboy rivalry still made itself known from time to time; and an unexpected visit late at night was one of those times.

The Avengers and friends began discussing Johnny's presence. Phil was rooted to the spot, watching the elevator door from his armchair. The doors slid open smoothly, and Johnny walked out, some kind of paper in his right hand. His eyes met Phil's.

"It's nearly two a-m," Pepper said, arching an eyebrow. "It can't wait until morning, Mr. Storm?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he strode over to Phil. Phil uncrossed his legs and nudged his mug a little further from the edge of the coffee table.

"Phil, I've got a question for you," Johnny said, halting a couple of feet away from him.

"Wait, d'you know each other?" Clint asked.

"Phil was the Fantastic Four's liaison a long time ago," Steve said. Phil vaguely wondered how he knew that; but Johnny was getting closer, and Phil's thought processes stutered.

"It's about this," Johnny said, unfolding the page. He thrust it forward, and Phil had to grab his wrists to keep it back. Once he was able to get a good look at it, he gasped softly. It was a picture of the two of them. But when was it taken?

"Where did this come from?" Phil asked.

"It was one of the ones Reed took of us wrestling."

"I suppose that sounds manlier than a tickle war," Phil mused. He couldn't help smiling; it was a great picture. "Could I get a copy?"

He glanced up at Johnny, who was gaping at him. He seemed to shake himself, and nodded.

"Yeah," he said.

"Thank you."

"If you can answer me one thing."

Phil inclined his head. "That's fair." He wished he felt as calm as he was pretending to be. "W-what's your question?"

Johnny exhaled in a huff. "Was it real?"

"Was what real?"

"This, Phil!" He shoved the picture forward again, and Phil had to grab his wrists once more. "The look on your face. Was that real? Was the look on your face _real_?"

"I…"

"Answer me!"

"Johnny—"

"Was it real?"

"You need to leave now," Natasha said, walking towards him. It was sweet that she wanted to defend him, but unnecessary.

"Stand down, Agent Romanov," Phil said. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Johnny's face, lips white but cheeks and eyes red. Phil didn't understand why Johnny seemed so anguished. He was visibly trembling, and the paper was starting to scrunch in his hands. Phil could feel the heat coming off him, and worried about the possibility of his ex starting a fire.

"He is being confrontational," she said. Phil sighed.

"Johnny, what do you want me to say?" he asked. Johnny pursed his lips.

"I want the truth," he finally said. "Was. That look. Real?"

"I don't see how anyone can fake emotions while wrestling," Phil said.

"Damn it, Phil, just answer me!"

"If you want me to, you have to let me look at it properly," he said, gently tugging the page from Johnny's hands. When Johnny didn't protest, Phil gave the photo more attention. Studying the tender look on his printed face, the way it was directed at Johnny… looking at their positions in a certain way, Phil acknowledged that the context could be mistaken for something more romantic.

Yet he was focussing less on his own face, and more on Johnny's. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes were wide, his entire focus on Phil. Phil could almost feel phantom hands where Johnny's were placed in the picture. His smile echoed the one in the photograph, familiar feelings flooding back to him as he took in the joy apparent on Johnny's face. He remembered that his years with Johnny Storm were the happiest of his life, and that nothing had come close to matching it.

He wanted that again, and wished, more than anything, that it was possible.

"Yes," he murmured, and he glanced up at Johnny with a rueful smile. "It was real."

Johnny dropped his gaze, and held out his hand. Phil returned the picture to him.

"It's my favourite," Johnny said, folding it up again and tucking it into his pocket. It was then that Phil realised Johnny was in pyjamas and his suit jacket.

"You have more?" he asked, trying to distract himself.

"Yeah. Reed didn't delete them."

"Thank God," Phil said. "Could you…?"

"Of course," Johnny said quickly. "Same email?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Good."

They were both silent for a minute. Johnny began to fidget. Phil wanted to hold him.

"I should go," Johnny mumbled. "Sorry to bother you."

He turned, and began to walk away.

Phil couldn't take it. He leapt from the chair, grabbed Johnny by the arm, and swung him around.

"It's still real," he said. "It's… it's still real, Johnny. If you wanted—"

Johnny didn't hesitate. He slipped a hand around the back of Phil's neck and tugged him in for a kiss. Phil wound his arms around Johnny, pulling him close. He smiled against Johnny's lips; it was like he was coming home. When they finally parted for breath, Johnny began kissing Phil's neck, each press of his mouth like a hot brand. Phil stroked his hair and back, desperate to keep touching him. It took AC/DC at top volume to break them apart. Phil felt his cheeks heat up when he realised that they had an audience. A bemused audience.

"Excuse us," he said, grasping Johnny's hand. He squeezed, encouraging Johnny to follow him, and ducked his head when the others cheered and hooted. He noticed Johnny's grin out of the corner of his eye. Johnny winked at him, and Phil reminded himself that he loved this immature man.

…Yes. It would always be real.

* * *

><p><strong>If I could draw, I would try to capture that picture myself. But I can't even photoshop, I'm sorry to say. Le sigh.<strong>

**Anyway. Please review!**


	4. As the World Falls Down

"As the World Falls Down"

So. It looked like the world was going to end. Sue and Reed weren't going to get married, not unless they did a rush job in a registry office. Johnny couldn't even enjoy a last drink with the Thing, not without thinking of being alone when the end hit.

"Go find your girl," he said.

"Can't exactly leave you to sulk," Ben said, knocking back his drink.

"I can find someone to spend the night with," Johnny said. "Don't worry about me."

"…You know, it's only been six weeks."

"I know."

"You could just call him—"

"I don't want to!"

Ben nodded, sitting back. "Okay." But he continued to stare at Johnny, who was fidgeting in his seat.

"Okay, so maybe I want to," he admitted. "But he broke up with me. It wasn't the other way around."

"He never told you why—"

"Yeah, so he was probably trying to spare my feelings."

"Did he know that you had any feelings?" Ben asked. Johnny scowled at him. "Feelings for him."

Johnny shrugged. "I dunno. But I don't think he'd pick up the phone if I called."

"Try."

"What good would it do?"

"Don't you at least want closure?"

Johnny opened his mouth, then shut it again. Good point.

"It's not a conversation I'm having in front of you," he said. Ben grunted a laugh.

"Call if you get lonely," he said, standing up with a rocky creak. He patted Johnny on the shoulder, and then walked out of the bar. Johnny sat there for a couple of minutes, trying to talk himself out of a very stupid idea.

…Ah, screw it.

"Coulson."

It sounded like he hadn't even looked at the screen, assuming he had Johnny's number saved in his phone anymore.

"Phil?" he said. "It's—"

"Johnny." He sounded surprised. "Do you have information on the man you were pursuing? Dr. Richards hasn't been answering his phone."

Okay, that hurt.

"The world's ending," Johnny said.

"Is it?"

"Yeah. The guy I followed… he leaves some kind of trail of destruction… whole planets destroyed…" He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We can't work out what to do about it. So, until we do, the apocalypse is on its way."

"The apocalypse doesn't actually mean the end of the world," Phil said. "It's the vision of the lead-up to the end of the world."

"Doesn't make me feel any better, Phil."

"Right." He sounded guilty. "Well, thank you for the information. Any help we can give is at your disposal."

He sighed, frustrated. "This isn't why I called."

"…You weren't returning the messages we've been leaving?"

"_No_. I… Look, forget it."

"No, what is it, Johnny?" Phil asked, sounding more like a boyfriend and less like an agent of SHIELD. "Tell me. Why did you call?"

He paused, trying to work out how to phrase it. "The… the end of the world is coming."

"So you've said."

"It makes you think about what's important in life."

"Yes."

"The people who are important in your life."

This time, Phil paused before prompting him. "Yes."

Johnny gulped down the lump in his throat. "The people you want to spend your last days with."

"…Johnny." Phil's voice wavered.

"I don't wanna know why you dumped me," Johnny said. "Just… was there someone else?"

"Not… not in a romantic sense. It was for work."

"Do you… do you have another boyfriend?"

"No," Phil said. "No, I don't. No one since you, Johnny."

"So if I asked to spend the night with you…?"

He heard an intake of breath. "Where?"

* * *

><p>Phil didn't leave Johnny's side. Not from the moment they fell into bed, showered together the next morning, and got on with saving the world. They went to London, where Phil chivvied the civilians to safety and co-ordinated the police, leaving the Fantastic Four to rescue the London Eye. He defended Johnny to anyone who confronted him about screwing up, and kept him close in private. ("You were going above and beyond the call of duty, and I could never fault you for that.") He watched Doom, telling Johnny his suspicions and keeping SHIELD informed of their progress.<p>

From Europe to Asia, all the way to battle in Shanghai, Phil never strayed far. Johnny tried his hardest not to take this for granted; he reminded himself that Phil was there for work, not to keep Johnny company. Slipping into each other's arms at night was just… stress relief. Nothing to do with Johnny's desperation for company. If Phil thought anything of the way Johnny clung to him ever since the second night, when Phil came to his bed again, he didn't say anything.

No one could blame him for being surprised when, the night after they saved the world, Phil climbed once more into Johnny's bed.

"You don't have to," Johnny said, facing away from him. "It's over now. No more apoca-whatever. You can go back to SHIELD now, tell them Earth is safe again. You don't need to stay with me." He traced patterns on the bed-sheets, trying to act nonchalant. It probably wasn't working.

"Do you want me to leave?" Phil asked.

"Come on," Johnny said. "You know I want you to stay. But I really _don't_ need your pity, so if you could take it elsewhere… that'd be great." His voice nearly broke, and he had to force himself not bury his face in the pillow.

"Johnny," Phil crooned, rubbing his arm. "It's not pity. Fury… he was right. I was an idiot to give you up. We could've worked something out. Hell, I'd leave my job if it meant I could wake up next to you every day."

"Really?" Johnny asked softly, rolling over to face him.

"Of course. Can't you see that?"

Johnny shook his head. "I wouldn't ask you to leave your job. I just don't want you to leave me."

"I won't."

* * *

><p>Phil was as good as his word. After Susan was recovered, she and Reed tied the knot, while Phil co-ordinated everything to ensure that it ran smoothly, and stayed by Alicia's side while the Fantastic Four got into the Fantasticar. Johnny was laughing as his sister threw the bouquet over her back.<p>

"Watch out," Ben said, pointing to where the bouquet was headed. Johnny recognised that glint in Phil's eyes from a distance.

"Eh," he said, shrugging.

Sure enough, Phil caught the flowers. He immediately handed them to Alicia, ignoring the disappointed faces of all the other hopefuls, and then winked at Johnny.

Well, it wasn't legal everywhere yet. But maybe someday…

* * *

><p><strong>I love the idea of Phil catching the bridal bouquet.<strong>

**Hey, this is oddly appropriate, with my own sister's wedding approaching. Hence the trip to London. Just a pity that this chapter doesn't coincide with the actual wedding itself. Unless, of course, I decided to save posting this story until the start of October, and posted a new chapter each day. Then it would definitely be posted on the day of the wedding. How cool would that be?**

**But I promised to post the whole thing while we were away. Admittedly, that was back when I thought it was only going to be 15 chapters, not 20.**

**Review, please!**


	5. Tattoos

"Tattoos"

Phil stared at his computer screen, smiling. He never would have thought he'd connect with someone like this just over the internet, without even seeing each other. He didn't want JrFred to be disappointed, which is why he hadn't suggested using webcams. Yet.

JrFred: Got any piercings?

The (S)wordsman: I considered it once, but I was talked out of it.

Johnny had done the talking. He'd said that a pierced ear would have detracted from Phil's natural charm. Those were his words. 'Detract from your natural charm'. It was really only an idle, post-coitus thought, when Phil was trying to work out a way to make himself seem younger. He didn't want to lose Johnny after only a couple of years of sleeping together. And then… a year later…

JrFred: I bet you'd look hot. But you could just get a big fake earring and an eye-patch for Talk Like a Pirate Day. And don't forget the parrot.

Phil laughed, and wondered how the director would take that.

The (S)wordsman: Considering my line of work, any kind of visible piercings would be inappropriate.

JrFred: What about less visible piercings?

The (S)wordsman: I can tell that you're wagging your eyebrows, so I'm not even going to answer that question.

The (S)wordsman: He was right, though. Anything like that would look ridiculous on a man my age.

JrFred: Hey now. There's no such thing as 'age' on here. It's just you and me, kid.

The (S)wordsman: What about you? Any piercings?

JrFred: Nah. Me and metal, we don't really work. Not when the metal is in my body.

Phil could understand why some people would feel that way. Certain superheroes and mutants out there would be unable to handle metal of any kind. Hell, anything like that in Johnny would end up melted, and that would be painful. For ordinary human beings like Phil, however, and JrFred, it was probably something less sinister, such as allergies.

JrFred: Got any tattoos?

The (S)wordsman: Wouldn't you like to know…

JrFred: Oh? Being coy, (S)words? Now my interest's peaked. And that's not all that's peaked.

The (S)wordsman: Indeed?

The (S)wordsman: Look, it's juvenile and ridiculous. I'd prefer to get to know you better before I start spilling those kind of deep, dark secrets.

The (S)wordsman: What about you? Any skin art?

JrFred: Not much, nothing special or meaningful. Just some generic stuff.

The (S)wordsman: I've known people who think that, but there's always some meaning. People don't just go through that kind of pain for kicks.

The (S)wordsman: I'll concede that SOME people go through that kind of pain for kicks, but there's always a reason for someone to get a tattoo, let alone more than one. Are you addicted to pain?

JrFred: Hell no.

The (S)wordsman: So? Got any stories for me?

It was about half a minute before he got a reply.

JrFred: Only one, and it isn't mine. You're gonna think it's dorky. My ex had a tattoo of Captain America's shield at the base of his spine. He got it because he had a dangerous job, and it was the most important part of him to protect. If he got shot or knifed there, he wouldn't be able to work, and he'd prefer to be dead. But I would have looked after him, if he'd asked me to.

Phil couldn't breathe. He read those words three times: 'Captain America's shield at the base of his spine'. His mind raced, connecting the dots. No metal in his body. The natural banter between them. The familiarity and connection he felt to this supposed stranger. The fact that they were both on East Coast time. JrFred's first initial – J – and just… some of the things he said rang true with… with Johnny.

JrFred: (S)words? I'm sorry. That just slipped out. Please ignore it.

JrFred: (S)words?

JrFred: Please say something.

JrFred: Type it.

JrFred: Whatever.

JrFred: WHERE ARE YOU?

The (S)wordsman: I have to go. I'll talk to you soon, JF.

Before he could see any more messages come in, Phil logged off and shut his computer down. He tidied himself up on the way down to the garage, and then hopped into Lola and started her up.

"Let's get going, sweetheart," he murmured. She purred in reply, and they drove off to the Baxter Building.

* * *

><p>Parking wasn't too bad, but Phil still had to walk for at least fifteen minutes. Before Loki, he could have managed it in eight, ten at most. At least it gave him more time to convince himself that this was a good idea. What if he'd got it all wrong? What if he'd just left JrFred in a terrible state? Who knows how many people out there had Cap's shield on their lower back? If this was all a coincidence, and Phil had just destroyed something good—<p>

He was nervous as he stepped out of the elevator onto the Fantastic Four's floor. The first thing he noticed was the group gathered at the sofa. When Alicia turned her head, he saw Johnny in the middle, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"I'm sure you haven't ruined anything," Susan was saying. Then she looked up, too, and so did Reed and Ben. Johnny was apparently too upset to notice anything.

Upset. Had potentially ruined something. It had to be.

"What're you doing here, Phil?" Ben asked. Johnny's head shot up at that, and he stared at Phil. His heart constricted when he saw the look on Johnny's face.

"I came to see Johnny," Phil said.

"As you can see, he's not up to visitors at the moment," Susan said.

"It's fine, Susie," Johnny mumbled. His eyes never left Phil's. "What do you want to see me about?"

"Mind if I…?" He half-raised his hand, gesturing towards the furniture.

"Please, sit down," Susan said. She still didn't look happy, and Phil couldn't blame her. Not after everything he'd done. Phil surprised them by sitting on the edge of the sturdy coffee table, right in front of Johnny.

"I have to ask you something, JF," he said, really going out on a limb. Most of the things he'd planned to say – all the grand openings – had flown straight out of his head.

Johnny's eyes nearly bugged out, and he gaped. "J… JF?"

"Do you prefer the sword—"

"Or the word?" Johnny finished. Phil's heart began to race. He knew he'd found the one.

"That's right."

"I'm… I'm flexible." The hitch in his breathing was noticeable, and he leaned closer, less than a foot away. "You're The Swordsman? Or… or The Wordsman? I don't know what you prefer."

"You, Johnny."

"I mean, do you want me to verbalise the parentheses… Me?"

Phil cupped his cheek. "Always, JF."

"_He's_ your online boyfriend?" Reed asked.

"Yeah," Johnny said, leaning into Phil's hand. "I guess he is. Only not so online anymore. Right, Swords?" Phil nodded.

"Then I'm getting back to work," Reed said, and he clapped Johnny on the shoulder. "Good luck. Try to make it work this time. We don't want a repeat of 2008."

"I'm not screwing it up this time," Phil said, and he pressed his lips to Johnny's for a brief kiss. "Never again."

Johnny made an indescribable noise, and nearly knocked the coffee table over when he threw himself into Phil's arms. There was no kissing; just Johnny clinging to Phil, face buried in his neck as his body shuddered. Phil held him impossibly close, one hand stroking Johnny's back, the other carding through Johnny's spiky hair.

"Shh. I'm here now, Johnny. Not gonna let you go. Can't get rid of me without a fight, now I've got you back. Shh, shh."

Phil didn't realise that he was crying until he opened his eyes and noticed that tears were obscuring his vision. He shut his eyes again and let the tears fall. With one deep, shaky breath, he folded Johnny even closer. Any further and they'd have to be naked. While that was a pleasant thought, it was inappropriate, and he dismissed it immediately, instead concentrating on Johnny's uneven, laboured breathing. Phil knew that part of the reason it seemed worse was because he was having similar trouble.

"We'll leave you alone," Susan said, and she began to stand. Phil waved her back down.

"We'll take this somewhere else," he said. His voice was hoarse, and it nearly broke his heart when he tried to pull away, and Johnny whined. It took some coaxing, and more promises of staying, until they were both standing. After that, it was easy enough to get Johnny to his bedroom. Phil shut the door, and they both tumbled onto the bed.

"Get these off," Johnny said. His voice was thick with tears, and his face was wet. His red-rimmed eyes told Phil a million things at once.

"You too," Phil said, and he scrambled to his feet. He hated the moment Johnny pulled off his shirt, hiding his face briefly. At least Phil was wearing a button-up. But the second they made eye contact again, Phil nearly tore off his clothes. He toed off his shoes, nearly fell over removing his socks, and stripped to his underwear. Johnny stripped down to his boxers, and then held out his arms. Phil climbed onto the bed and lowered himself into Johnny's embrace. He breathed in that too-familiar scent unique to his former lover. Maybe future lover?

"Stay the night?" Johnny said softly. "Even if it's just for tonight… I need you, Phil."

"I'll have to leave in the morning. It's either that or I get Stark to send all of my things here. Or we could both leave, and take your things to my apartment."

"You want us to move in together?"

"I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. Moving in sounds like a good start."

"_Very_ good," Johnny said, and he shifted his grasp so that their legs were entangled and their torsos flush against each other.

They let silence reign for a few minutes. Phil used that time to think over something Reed had said.

"Johnny," he said.

"Yeah, love?"

Phil's heart jumped, but he pushed on.

"What happened in 2008?"

Johnny didn't reply straight away. Then, "I missed you in 2008."

Phil almost left it at that. Until he remembered something else, something he'd observed, but not registered, when Johnny removed his t-shirt. He ran his hand down Johnny's chest until he reached the point where Johnny's arm rested around his back. Then he pulled until the wrist came into view. What he saw broke his heart, and made him feel sick to the stomach.

"Oh, Johnny," he whispered.

"I was drunk. It'll never happen again, I swear." Johnny sounded so scared that Phil tore his gaze away from the scars to meet his man's eyes. "This… this doesn't change anything, does it?"

"Perhaps," Phil said. "But only because I know that I nearly lost you. If I ever make you unhappy again, you _tell_ me. Reed was right; there can't be a repeat of this."

"I told you, there won't be! I… I'm not holding you hostage, but just don't leave again, okay?"

"Not until the day you ask me to."

"Then you're stuck with me forever."

Phil knew that the guilt and horror would never disappear completely; just fade with time. But he would never take Johnny for granted. For better or for worse, this had happened.

For better or for worse. Now there was an idea…

* * *

><p><strong>In case I'm not being blatant enough, I'm referring to wedding vows at the end there.<strong>

**There are so many ways they could have worked it out during the course of their online relationship. A slip of the fingers, with one referring to the other by name, and not realising until the other replied with theirs; actually attempting a webcam conversation; finally asking for a name or location; even something too coincidental, such as Johnny mentioning that he was injured in Central Park, and Phil realising the connection then, or something like that. This is just one of many possibilities.**

**If I'm being brave (or stupid) enough to post these, I hope the one person reading them is enjoying it.**


	6. Regrets

"Regrets"

The world was ending, and Phil was realising what he should have always seen: that the most important person to him was Johnny Storm. The same Johnny Storm was who on the trail of a being which destroyed every planet it touched, as SHIELD scientists discovered. The words were barely out of their mouths when Phil found himself questioning his life choices.

Thank God he'd been there when they had burst into Fury's office to tell him, waving charts and reports and babbling about Armageddon. He was out the door before they'd finished speaking, already on his phone and tracing Johnny's location to Asia. Damn it.

His phone rang.

"Yes, boss?"

"Get to the roof. There'll be a Quinjet waiting for you."

"Thank you, sir."

"Just go get him, Coulson."

"If he even wants me."

"He will."

Phil wasn't so sure, but he agreed solely to get the director off his back.

He was right. Phil was. The minute he saw Johnny flirting with a woman – blonde, military, helped them save the world – Phil knew that he had no chance. She was young, beautiful, energetic, and female. Just right for Johnny. And, worse still, she clearly wasn't an airhead or flighty; Johnny could do with the stability and firm hand, and it was socially acceptable for a super_hero_ to date a woman. Not a man, and especially one as unassuming and non-descript as Phil.

Being part-masochist, and trying to see whether all was not lost, he secretly attended the last-minute wedding, at which this Ms. Raye was a bridesmaid. A _bridesmaid_; and from what Phil could gather, she'd only met them a couple of weeks ago. And Phil, who'd known them for three years, didn't even get an invite to the original wedding. Which, by the way, he had helped them plan.

At the wedding, he saw the way she and Johnny looked at each other. For her to have such an honour on so short an acquaintance… for her to get _that_ kind of look from Johnny, a look he'd never given Phil… it must have been true love. Maybe not at first sight, but clearly it'd been very quick.

No chance for Phil.

He saw Johnny look at him once, and frown. Phil took that as his cue to leave. He wasn't welcome, and he certainly wasn't going to wait around to see Ms. Raye catch the bouquet and get her happily ever after with the man Phil wanted and loved.

It was time to go home, and put Johnny Storm firmly out of his mind. Forever, if need be.

* * *

><p>A weekly drink became a couple of drinks twice a week, and then more often. Two or three months after the Richards' wedding – Phil had kind of lost track – he visited NYC. He was given a debrief, and he and Barton chased down a band of small-time local terrorists. It turned out to be embarrassingly easy; due possibly, in part, to SHIELD underestimating the power of Phil and Barton's teamwork. They debriefed while medical checked them out and patched up cuts and bruises. Then Barton left to clean his bow, and Phil hit the nearest bar. Half an hour later, he was on to his second whiskey, and just starting to feel the effects of it. Partway through the third, Fury found him.<p>

"A little bird told me I'd find you here," he said.

"Barton?"

"I was speaking metaphorically, dumbass," Fury said, with something like affection in his tone.

"Hmph." He slugged back the rest of the drink, and indicated to the barman that he wanted another. He tried to ignore his boss's stare. "What?" (He failed.)

"So I was wrong about Storm taking you back." Phil hated it when he couldn't tell whether Fury was asking or stating. It didn't help that he was _possibly_ partially inebriated.

"He's got every right not to want me," Phil said. "Who would?"

"He's an idiot not to."

"No."

"Yes, he is."

Phil was silent for a second. Then, "I hate him."

"No, you don't, Phil."

"I do. And I never want to see him again. _Ever_."

"You know that's not true. If it was, you wouldn't be going down this road." Fury indicated the new drink Phil was turning in his hands. He grimaced.

"He's already found someone else," he whispered.

Fury sucked in a breath through his teeth. "And?"

"And she's beautiful, and smart. I did her background check. She's more right for him than I am."

"Damn it," Fury muttered. He took the glass away from Phil. "For this conversation, I think I need this more than you do."

"You hate whiskey."

"I'll make an exception in this case."

"Did you drive here?"

"No, but my alcohol tolerance is higher than yours anyway. Remember Berlin twenty years ago?"

Phil smiled hazily. "Good times."

Fury sculled half the drink, then made a face. "I'm switching to something else."

"Then give me this," Phil said, snatching the glass from his friend. He drank the rest of it, and went to signal the bartender again. Fury grabbed his wrist and held it down.

"No," he said, pinning Phil with a fierce glare. "Stop killing off those valuable brain cells of yours. I need those brain cells, preferably in your head. And this'll dull your muscle memory and reflexes. I need those, too."

"That's all I am to SHIELD. A brain and muscle memory." He snorted. "Great. That makes me feel so much better, _sir_."

"Storm's got your heart. Let us have something, okay?"

Phil snorted again, and signalled for another drink with his free hand.

* * *

><p>From his position outside in the car, listening in on the bug Director Fury was wearing, Clint Barton felt lower than he ever had before, and he'd done some pretty damn reprehensible things. It didn't take a degree in rocket science to work out that Johnny Storm – the Human Torch? Seriously? – was the someone special that Coulson had given up to become Clint's handler. And that made him feel like crap.<p>

"Damn it," he muttered, head sinking into his hands. "God _damn_ it!"

"What're you gonna do, Cheese?" Fury asked.

'_Cheese_?' Clint mouthed. There was a story there.

"More of what I've been doing," Coulson said.

"Working yourself to death or drinking yourself to death?"

"I'm not at that stage yet. But work takes me away from my problems, just for a little while, and this… this deadens the pain when I remember." Clint heard him swallow yet another drink. His words were starting to slur a bit. There was a glassy clink.

"Not on my watch," Fury said firmly. "You're already gonna have a hell of a hangover in the morning."

"Nick…"

"Let's get you home. Got a car waiting outside."

"He took her to his sister's _wedding_, Nick. He barely knew her a week, and she was Sue's _bridesmaid_!"

"Not like they've got all that many friends in Asia."

"Don't tell anyone," Coulson blurted out. "I don't want `em to know. They'll… if they knew why I left… dumped… Johnny, they might blame Clint, and it's not his fault. I made a stupid decision, even though it's paid off. He's good, isn't he, Nick? Best we have? I don't regret that. But I should've told Johnny, at least talked it over with him. He agreed to a split, but… we could've worked something out, if I'd tried."

"I told you that at the time, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. You're so damn smart. But it's my fault, not yours, Barton. Hear me? It wasn't you."

Clint leaned away from the speaker, blinking, and Phil chuckled.

"I'm not so wasted that I don't know when I'm being bugged," he continued. There was a scratchy sound, most likely Phil removing the bug from Fury's coat. The last Clint heard over the speaker was the director sighing, before the line was definitely cut.

This would not fly. First thing tomorrow, Clint was gonna go find Johnny Storm.

* * *

><p>"What the…?" Susan was staring at the numbers on the elevator, and it was obvious that the elevator had stopped below theirs… on the floor currently being renovated, and consequently unoccupied. Johnny moved his arm from around Frankie's back, slowly, just in case. He didn't want to startle any invisible creatures. As if on cue, Sue disappeared from sight. Alicia tilted her head.<p>

"Someone's climbing up the shaft," she said. Then there was an electronic beep, and the doors slid open. Someone flipped into the room, ducking Sue's force-field and tumbling to a stop in front of Johnny.

"Let me guess," Johnny said. "You were an acrobat in the circus." The blond stranger grinned.

"No, but they taught me some stuff," he said. "My name's Clint Barton. You Storm?"

"Yeah," Johnny said.

"You're an idiot."

"_Excuse_ me?"

"You let him go, and you should've chased him," Barton said. "He's one of the greatest men I know, and I've known a hell of a lot of men. Not in the Biblical sense… would've almost preferred that to the business… anyway." He shook his head. "He's gonna keep driving himself to drink, and keep over-working himself, until one day it kills him, and that's gonna be on _you_."

Johnny pursed his lips, and glanced away. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"Phil Coulson? My boss? The guy who's so damn in love with you that he's drinking more and more ever since he found out that you've moved on?"

"What?" Frankie asked, staring at Johnny. He had no idea what her stance was on sexualities, thanks to DADT. He should probably have found out before they started dating. And… Phil knew about them? Was that really him at the wedding, not just some hallucination?

"Uh…" he said.

"Did you date guys?" she asked.

"Just… just one guy," he admitted. "But he broke it off about six weeks before we met. It was over. _Is_ over."

"It doesn't sound like it! Was I your rebound?"

"No! I'm over him. Really."

"Uh-huh."

"…Look, his feelings don't mean a thing to me, Frankie."

Barton stood up and brushed himself off deliberately.

"You're an ass," he said, and then he looked Johnny straight in the eyes. "You don't feel the same way about him? Fine. But you've gotta tell him so he can start getting over you. As long as he's torturing himself over the 'What if?'s, he's gonna keep turning to alcohol. I still don't know him well enough to know whether he's the kinda guy to spiral all the way down; sex, drugs, the whole shebang. I think we all wanna avoid that." He studied his nails. "And even if you don't care about him, there are people who do, and I'm pretty sure you don't want an arrow between your eyes, or in your ass if I'm feeling generous."

It wasn't the threat that got to Johnny. It was the idea that Phil could self-destruct, maybe even end up dead. But why? It didn't make sense.

"He's the one who dumped me," he told Barton. "If he really lo— cared about me, why would he do that?" And why wouldn't he tell me how he felt? he thought. Though I guess we didn't do things like that…

Barton scratched the back of his neck, suddenly shame-faced. "Okay, I can actually explain that. I'm new to SHIELD; Coulson's the one who brought me in, actually. And… I really didn't wanna take orders from anyone, so I was… difficult to handle. In the end, Director Fury asked Coulson to be my handler. It wasn't until later that he told me he'd given up his boyfriend – or whatever you were – to help me adjust. He didn't seem to think it was serious, even though it was _painfully_ obvious that he missed you like crazy. Last night, I head him talking to Fury. That's when I found out just how serious he was."

"Serious?" Johnny said. "About me?" No one was ever serious about him.

"I don't believe this," Frankie muttered. Johnny frowned at her.

"You can't accept that I'm bi?" he asked. She rolled her eyes.

"It's not that," she said. "Not… _all_ that. You clearly have unresolved issues with this guy. I'm not hanging around while you work out this whole… thing." She stood up. "Call me if… _when_ it's over. If I'm still available we can try again. But don't take too long, Johnny. A girl could start thinking you actually like him back." Johnny was silent, staring at his hands while she left. Barton snorted.

"Sounds like she moves on faster than you do," he remarked. "Must be perfect for each other."

"Are you sure?"

"About you and the blonde?"

"No! Are you sure… does Phil still want me?"

Johnny felt almost naked while Barton studied him. He would've fidgeted if this wasn't so important.

"I think so," he said. "I'm sorry he ended things with you because of me. But d'you think that would've happened if he thought you were serious about him?"

"No," Johnny said softly. "I think we would've talked about it, and worked something out."

"So what're you gonna do?"

Johnny stood up. "Where is he? Apartment? Base?"

"He has an apartment?"

"He better still have an apartment," Johnny said, making for the door. "If he's hungover, he's not gonna be on base."

"If you say so," Barton said, shrugging. His eyes narrowed. "You hurt him—"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before," Johnny said, waving his hand. "Barton… thanks."

* * *

><p>Fury looked down at him. Johnny swallowed, but stood his ground. He opened his mouth to speak.<p>

"Come back in an hour," Fury said, and he shut the door in Johnny's face. Surprised – and pissed off – he banged on the door until it opened again.

"I wanna see Phil," he told the director.

"So you met Clint Barton, huh?" Johnny nodded. "Yeah, I thought he'd do that. Well, you're gonna have to wait. Sit on the bench across the street or something. You don't wanna see Phil right now. Not like this."

"Yes, I do."

Fury glared at him. In other words, his default expression. "Let me put it another way. Phil wouldn't want you to see him like this. Gimme an hour."

Johnny considered this. "You won't let him get away?"

"I'll tell him it was an annoying neighbour. He won't know it's you until he sees you. Satisfied?"

He sniffed. "Won't be satisfied `til I see him, but I guess I'll just have to deal with it, won't I?"

"Looks like."

With a huff, Johnny left, taking up the suggested position opposite the apartment building. An hour. God, it was gonna drag on, wasn't it? But he'd wait all day, as long as he got to see Phil again by the end of it.

Appropriately enough, he settled back and thought over his three year… thing with Phil. Relationship. That dirty word he only ever used when denying that they were in one. Idiot. No wonder Phil hadn't stuck around. For all that he was in favour of the friends-with-benefits arrangement, he was the forever kinda guy, wasn't he? He'd been in the same job since he left high school, a job he placed above everything else. If he and Johnny were in a real, honest-to-God, permanent relationship, would SHIELD place second on Phil's list of priorities?

Then Johnny recalled something. One time he'd been hanging out in the foyer of the Boston base, waiting for Phil to finish up so they could go to… Johnny couldn't remember the name of the sporting event, but he was invited, and Phil was in the area, so he'd been killing two birds with one stone. While he was waiting, tensing each time the elevator doors opened, only to be let down when it wasn't Phil, he eavesdropped.

"…taking the weekend off!"

"Phil Coulson? _The_ Phil Coulson? He can't be."

"I swear to God it's true. I've got the form right here."

"…He's taking the weekend off for _sport_?"

"His boyfriend's going to it."

"Really?"

"That's what I heard."

"Wow. I thought he was celibate."

Johnny snorted. Phil _definitely_ wasn't celibate.

"Where's this boyfriend from?"

"I don't know," the first woman sang. "But he's been spending most of his time in NY. This is only the second time he's been in Boston this year."

"But it's October."

"Exactly."

"Huh."

The doors opened again. Still no Phil.

"Look at this."

"Should we be looking up his records?"

"We've gotta make sure that there are no irregularities, right? And I'd say that taking the recommended amount of sick leave for injuries would count as irregular for Agent Coulson."

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh. And he's been taking holiday leave for a couple of years. _Actual_ holiday leave. It hasn't been forced on him, either. And his work cell's been off during those times. The director's the only one who has his personal cell."

"So he's been following regulations for an agent on holiday?"

"Yep."

The next time the doors opened, Phil stepped out. Finally, the wait was over. Johnny bounded over to him.

"Hey," he said. The gossipers stopped talking.

"Good morning," Phil said.

"Afternoon, actually."

Phil winced slightly. "Sorry."

"Don't worry. It's only just. So. Lunch?"

"Yes, please."

It wasn't until Johnny that Phil started to take the right amount of time off. No wonder the agent seemed less tightly-wound the longer they were together. Johnny used to attribute it to the frequent sex. But maybe it was because Phil was more relaxed? Is this what Barton meant by Phil starting to work too hard?

When he looked at his watch again, Johnny saw that he only had to wait another five minutes. So he made his way across the street, into the building, and up to Phil's apartment, where he knocked at the door. He heard Fury's voice on the other side, and then Phil's. It was getting closer; he was going to open the door. Johnny braced himself for… he didn't know what, but something. Maybe Phil's smile, if he was lucky.

"What can I do for you?" Phil asked as the door swung open. Then he noticed who his visitor was, and his jaw dropped. "J-Johnny?"

"Hi, Phil," he said quietly. "How're you doing?"

"I… I'm okay." He grimaced. "Bit of a headache…"

"Yeah, heard you were on a bender last night."

"Not quite." Phil rubbed his left temple. "It just feels like it."

Johnny reached out both hands, placed his fingers on either side of Phil's head, and sent some gentle warmth through. It wasn't the first time he'd done something like this for Phil, although the need to do it seemed less frequent over time, no doubt coinciding with Phil taking more time off.

It worked, at least. Phil's expression transformed from pain to relief, and he relaxed, leaning into Johnny's touch with a sigh.

"Thank you," he murmured. Fury cleared his throat.

"Now you're in good hands, I'll leave you to it," he said. Johnny smiled at him gratefully, although Phil's look of panic stung a little.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Back to work. Where else? Stay here, Agent Coulson. You've got the day off. Accept it."

Then Fury walked out, and shut the door behind him. Johnny lowered his hands from where they'd been hanging uselessly in mid-air. Phil glanced at him, face turning red, and he began to walk away.

"I broke up with Frankie," Johnny said quickly, and Phil stopped in his tracks. "Well, to be honest, she broke up with me after Barton revealed how you… felt, about me."

"Should've removed that bug sooner," Phil muttered.

"She said I needed to sort this out – they both said it, actually – and told me to tell her when it was done, and she'd be willing to try again."

Phil nodded, still not looking at Johnny. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're so damn honourable that you might punch me for this if you thought I was in the wrong."

"Punch you for—?"

He grabbed Phil by the arms, and caught him in a kiss before there was time for protestations. Phil almost sagged in his grasp, and willingly opened for Johnny's tongue. Deep, familiar, _awesome_ kissing went on for a few minutes, or hours, or who-cares-how-long, before Phil shoved him back. Johnny scowled at him.

"What the hell, Phil?" he said.

"You told me you were… were gonna get back together with her," he replied. "Don't do this just because Clint Barton felt like playing at being a guard dog."

"Oh." Johnny smiled. That was all. "I never said that. Frankie did." He shrugged, stepping closer to Phil. "She made the mistake of not realising that you're the most important person in my world."

"I…" Phil stared at him. "I am? _I_ am?"

"Sue has Reed, so she doesn't need me anymore. That leaves you as the single most important person in my life, and I'm not gonna let you go, okay? You're mine for life. If… if you'll have me."

Phil continued to watch him with wide eyes, and Johnny stared right back. Until, that is, the moment that Phil launched himself at Johnny. He caught Phil and cradled him close, never not touching some part of him as they picked up where they left off. As though they'd never been apart.

* * *

><p><strong>Hand-wrote this over the course of several days… well, nights. Because I hadn't already written it by the time we got to London. Didn't take me all that long to type it up, but then I'm a pretty fast typist when I'm copying stuff down. Or when I'm on a roll with my writing.<strong>

**So. Hope this is worth my sore-ish hands. Please review!**


	7. A Deadly Anniversary

**Warning: vehement swearing and attempted suicide.**

"A Deadly Anniversary"

"You've stuck it out with Barton for almost a year," Sitwell said, and he patted Phil on the shoulder as he passed. "Only you could do it, Coulson."

"A year? Really?"

"Yep. We're thinking about throwing a party for you."

"Don't be rude," Phil said, his mind only half on the conversation. "Excuse me, Jasper."

"Sure thing."

Phil hurried along the corridors until he reached his office, and went straight to his desk calendar. It'd been one of those weeks where the days bled into each other, and time lost meaning. Sure enough, it was nearly the first anniversary of taking Clint under his wing, which meant that tomorrow…

Tomorrow was the first anniversary of his break-up. Tonight was the first anniversary of the last time they had slept together, the last time he had held Johnny in his arms, the last time they made love, the last time he said 'I love you'—

The _only_ time he'd said 'I love you'.

And he'd forgotten that. What if Johnny had heard? What if _he'd_ remembered? And then Phil went and broke up with him.

Phil was a monster.

His phone was in his hand before he noticed the action. Mind still only half on task, his thumb typed the familiar – as familiar as home – phone number, and then hovered over the call button. It would be so easy. Just press the key, and finally hear Johnny's voice again. Ask him out for drinks sometime, with whoever he was dating, just to catch up (and see what he'd lost when he dumped the love of his life, like the masochist he was).

But would Johnny even realise the significance of the date? And if he did, would that simply make him less inclined to agree to meet up?

Slowly, Phil backspaced the number. He'd do what he did best, and spy on Johnny. Not if he was wrapped up in someone else; Phil just wanted to make sure that his ex was all right, and wasn't lonely. See how he was celebrating today or tomorrow. Phil was sure Nick would be fine with him using SHIELD resources to pinpoint Johnny's location. He called on the internal line to check.

"Go for it," the director said. "I'll even help speed up the search."

It was surprising to see how far outside of New York Johnny's phone was. The heat signature on the radar matched perfectly, just confirming his suspicions. Phil quickly requisitioned a `jet to take him there, although for this to remain covert he would have to be dropped off out of sight, and get to Johnny's location by some other means.

The thing which made the least sense, however, was that Johnny was, apparently, completely alone.

* * *

><p>It was a nice, quiet little place, a beachfront and a bungalow all to himself. Johnny rented it for the weekend, wanting to be away from everyone and everything that reminded him of Phil, and get nice and drunk.<p>

The thing is, everything reminded him of Phil. _Breathing_ reminded him of Phil.

He'd brought along a case of beer and a bottle of whiskey. Looking at it from a distance, he knew it wouldn't be enough to get himself wasted. A trip to the closest liquor store fixed that, and Johnny piled most of it in the one place, right beside an armchair in front of the television. In case of hangovers, he'd also bought painkillers. (That was what he told himself.) The local pharmacy had even more, so he stocked up, adding to all that he'd collected along the way.

After settling himself down, he scrolled through all the options on cable, trying to find something to occupy his mind.

Action: Phil's job.

Comedy: Phil's laugh.

Musical: Phil's one attempt at karaoke.

(Drama: Johnny's life at the moment.)

Romance: Enough said.

That left a documentary. Watching animals kill each other wasn't exactly good for his already maudlin state of mind. But it was either that or sit there in silence. The sports were either boring, or repeats of matches he'd already seen. David Attenborough it was.

If only it was animals killing each other.

Instead, it was all about romance in the animal kingdom. Screw that for a joke.

Johnny flipped between the shopping and weather channels, and even the foreign language news. But then he'd remember that SHIELD sent agents overseas, and that international disasters weren't exactly healthy for him, either.

He worked his way through half of the beer before he turned to the bottle of whiskey. He was halfway through – and proud that he was still conscious – when he dropped the bottle. The glass shattered, leaving the jagged neck and the near-empty bottom. Johnny picked up the neck and stared at it, curious, his mind nearing the edge of something.

"`Leas' there's `nother bottle," he muttered. But still his hand wouldn't let go, and neither would his mind.

Phil was gone. Phil didn't want him. Didn't love him. He said he did, but then he left. Why would he leave? Did Johnny do something wrong? He must've done. Maybe it's `cause he didn't say it back.

But he could've fixed it, if Phil just told him how. Maybe he was bored? Or he'd found someone else? God. Phil'd found someone else. Was he seeing them at the same time? Nah. Phil just did the honourable thing and dumped Johnny. He wouldn't cheat. Not physically. Just with his heart. And Johnny thought he had Phil's heart. Phil had his.

Fuck all of this. Sue had Reed. Ben and Alicia were engaged. None of them needed him. None of them cared. They had each other. Johnny had no one. The only guy— _person_ he wanted didn't want Johnny. Why was he always attracted to the ones who didn't want him back?

All these thoughts swirled in his head as Johnny heaved himself out of the armchair and staggered to the bathroom. Everything was swaying. He fell to his knees before the toilet and emptied his stomach into is. He hadn't eaten for hours, so it was mostly alcohol.

Johnny was still holding the neck of the whiskey bottle. One shard had scratched his arm when he grabbed the bowl of the toilet. Feeling the blood trickle down, seeing it, gave Johnny some kind of relief. It was like all his troubles were slowly leaving him. The blood would take it all away.

He stood, slowly, and managed to get to the sink. He put the bottle down, broken side up, and gave his face and mouth a quick wash. Tears and sick spoiled the image, after all. Then he picked up the bottle, and his head filled with white noise as he pressed the jagged edge to the skin of his left wrist. The alcohol had numbed him enough that it didn't hurt as he dragged the shard across, tearing the skin open. He'd felt worse in motorcycle crashes. Red rivulets ran down his arm and dripped onto the white porcelain. Again and again. Then Johnny's right hand went lax, causing the last cut to go a bit deeper. But he noticed nothing as he swapped to the other wrist, and started scratching there. More blood spilled, and his vision went woozy at the edges.

Collapsing here would be a bad idea. Maybe he should head back to the living room, and start on that other bottle. This would probably take awhile. If it didn't work in half an hour, he'd come back and try again. This would just take the edge off—

"Johnny! Jesus Christ, what the _hell_ do you think you're doing? Shit."

"Phil?" Johnny said as the hallucination grabbed his hands. Oh good. Booze and blood had conjured up the one person he was trying to forget. Annoyed, he tried to pull back, and hissed at the slight pain from the broken skin tearing further. Phil swore again, and gravity went all over the place as he swept Johnny into his arms.

"Get you to a bed. God, Johnny. Stay awake, okay? Don't fall asleep. Whatever you do, _don't fall asleep_."

"Course not," Johnny said. It made his head hurt as Phil ran with him, for some reason, checking each room. Only seconds later, Johnny found himself on the bed he hadn't even tried out yet. "`f I do, I'll just dream `bout you. Kinda the point-a bein' here."

"You idiot," Phil said. Johnny frowned.

"`m the one who's heartbroken, `kay?" he said, pointing somewhere towards Phil. "Don't call me `n idiot."

"What was the point of all this?" Phil asked. Johnny managed to uncross his eyes long enough to see Phil pull off his jacket and rip off his shirt. He didn't even untuck it first. Huh.

"Can't get it up at th' moment," he said. "You'll have to use a hand."

Phil gave him that familiar irritated look. Then he ripped off the sleeves, tore the rest of the shirt into shreds, and began to wind the pieces around Johnny's wrists. Johnny wasn't sure why Phil was doing it. He wasn't sure of anything, in fact. He just wanted to sleep…

But then he'd dream about Phil, and that sucked. He kept thinking about where they would've been by now if Johnny hadn't screwed up however he'd screwed up.

Then again, they were happy places. Yeah. He didn't actually mind sle…

* * *

><p>"Johnny?" Phil looked up when his ex relaxed completely. "No. No, no, no. Johnny!" He grabbed Johnny's face and slapped his cheeks. "Wake up! Come on, don't do this to me."<p>

The stench of alcohol had pervaded the house, but it was concentrated on Johnny's breath. Phil hadn't even stopped to count how many empty bottles there were. When he saw the broken one, he worried that Johnny had accidentally cut himself, and assumed that he would go to the bathroom. Thank God he'd gone there first, instead of the kitchen.

"I'll be back," Phil said, tying the knot on the last layer of improvised bandaging. He leaned over and kissed Johnny on the forehead. His lips lingered, and it nearly killed him to pull away. But he jogged back to the bathroom. Ignoring the blood (or trying to) he rifled through the medicine cabinet until he found a first aid kit. The sheer number of boxes and bottles of painkillers, purchased from all over the place, scared the hell out of him. But he couldn't leave Johnny unsupervised any longer, and ran back to the bedroom.

Johnny was still unconscious, and the red stains were spreading. Phil's hands shook as he opened the box and found pads, bandages, and even a small sewing kit someone must have thrown in there in case stitches were needed. He didn't have any rubbing alcohol, though. Fortunately, the cuts weren't too deep, for the most part, although they would undoubtedly leave scars which would never truly fade with time. But then Phil wasn't a doctor; how would he know?

Hands still unsteady, he removed the ruined fabric from Johnny's wrists. He used an antiseptic wipe to remove the blood from the cuts. Before it could well up again, he slapped pads over the cuts, taped them in place, and finished off with bandages wound tightly around Johnny's wrists. Phil secured them, packed up everything he didn't use and threw out the wrappings. He returned the kit to its place, grabbed a strip of aspirin and a glass of water, and went back to the bedroom.

He would never be able to forget the sight of Johnny, glassy-eyed, reeking of alcohol, and slitting his wrists with a broken whiskey bottle. The confused look, the slurred speech, the way he was far too light in Phil's arms.

"Johnny!"

Phil looked up from where he was holding Johnny and stroking his hair.

"He's in here!" he called.

"…Phil?"

He sighed, and waited for Sue to reach the bedroom. When she did, her eyes immediately zeroed in on the blood stains, and then Johnny's wrists. Then her gaze met Phil's.

"What. The hell. Happened?" she asked.

"I found him in the bathroom," Phil said. "I… I… He tried to kill himself." The tears which had been building up for nearly an hour finally spilled over, and he wrapped his arms tighter around Johnny's torso. "Oh God. I could've lost him."

"He isn't yours," Sue said. But another look at the blood, and all the fight drained out of her. She clapped a hand to her mouth and began to hyperventilate. Fortunately, Reed showed up right behind her and forced her to sit on the edge of the bed, farthest away from the blood stains and the remains of Phil's shirt. Alicia and Ben showed up at the door. Brilliant. All of them together again. And Phil was painfully aware that he was bare from the waist up. Well, except for the tie he hadn't removed yet.

"Why would he do this?" he said, not quietly enough. Sue turned around, furious once again.

"Because of _you_, Phil," she said. "Don't you even know what tomorrow is?"

"I know," he snapped. "That's why I came here. I wasn't expecting to find this." No matter how angry he was, the tears kept coming, and his voice felt like it was ready to close up shop. "He wouldn't… because of me… would he? He's so young." He looked down at Johnny again, and stroked his face tenderly. "Too young. I'm not worth it. It must be something else. It's not like he loved me or anything."

"Didn't he?" Alicia said. "Doesn't he?"

Phil couldn't speak for a few seconds. He swallowed the hard lump in his throat, and then kissed the top of Johnny's head. He murmured prayers, pleas, anything to make Johnny live to see another day. He'd probably stopped the bleeding in time; but apparently he needed to be healed emotionally as well.

"Should I stay?" he asked quietly. He dreaded the answer.

"Yeah."

They all stared at Johnny. He slowly licked his lips, and coughed once.

"Stay," he croaked. "Stay. Phil."

Phil exhaled in a great rush, and pulled Johnny further into his arms.

"Of course," he said. "Of course. I love you, Johnny, and I'm so, so sorry."

Johnny smiled, and went back to sleep. This time, it looked to be natural, and Sue fell into Reed's arms with a slump of relief. Phil shifted his legs slowly until he was lying with Johnny on top, back-to-chest. He kissed Johnny's cheek, his chin, his neck; anywhere he could reach, and cocooned his injured wrists as gently as possible.

"You can leave now," he told the others. "I won't let him out of my sight for a second."

"You better not," Sue said. Her scowl told Phil that he had a lot of making up to do, and clearly not just for this. If they hated him that much, the break-up must have hit Johnny harder than Phil had anticipated.

* * *

><p>In the morning, Johnny woke from a different kind of Phil-dream. In this one, Phil had stopped Johnny from doing something very stupid, brought on by way too much alcohol, and possibly an animal documentary. He tried to open his eyes, and groaned at the amount of light that let in. Something moved behind him; but he was in no condition to defend himself, so he waited.<p>

"Tablets. Just two of them. Some water as well. You're probably dehydrated. Either that, or still hammered."

"Huh?" Johnny sat up gingerly, and recognised the horrible taste in his mouth. He also thought he recognised that voice.

"Tablets and water. Once you feel up to it, we'll talk. But I'm not leaving you alone. Pop these in. That's right. Now drink up. Swallow. Good work, Johnny." There was the clink of a glass being set down, and the dip of the bed as someone sat beside Johnny. But it couldn't be…

"Phil?"

"Right here."

Johnny let his eyes focus, and recognised his former lover. Phil's eyes were red and bloodshot, he looked like he hadn't slept, his shirt was buttoned up the wrong wa—

Johnny's shirt. Phil was wearing Johnny's shirt.

"You look good," he said. His voice was hoarse, his throat raw. His head was pounding, although the aspirin seemed to have worked. "What're you doing here?" Phil didn't answer, and Johnny looked down at his lap. Then he saw his hands. "And what the hell is with—?"

"You tried… to kill yourself," Phil said. It sounded like it was an effort to say each word, and he sounded about as wrecked as Johnny. "I had to patch you up. There was booze, hundreds of painkillers, and you were slitting your wrists when I found you. Thank God you hadn't taken any of the meds, or you'd probably be…" He looked like he wanted to throw up, and turned away. "Johnny, why would you do that?"

"Well…" Johnny wasn't really thinking, and he rested his hand on Phil's shoulder. "You left me. Hey, happy anniversary. Wait, how long have I been out of it?"

He heard something strange. Phil buried his face in his hands, and Johnny shuffled closer. It made his head ache, but he was hurting even more in other places, deep inside, and he had a bad feeling that Phil was crying. Cautiously, he slipped his arms around Phil's waist and leaned his head against Phil's upper back. He waited it out, for Phil to stop trembling, for the sobbing noises to slow down. Eventually, Phil turned around, and stared at Johnny.

"Over me?" he said, like he couldn't even believe it. "I'm not worth it, Johnny. Not worth k-killing yourself."

"Maybe," Johnny said, and he cupped Phil's cheek. "Not over a broken heart. If I was sacrificing myself to save you, yeah, you're definitely worth it."

"Johnny…"

"Don't cry." He caught a tear before it could fall. "Why did you come?"

Phil shook his head, and Johnny's hand followed. "I was too much of a coward to call. I wanted to see you again. If I'd called… maybe you wouldn't have—"

"I might not've answered. Don't blame yourself. Just kiss me." Phil's jaw dropped, and Johnny's blood ran cold. "I… I mean—"

His words were cut off by Phil's mouth on his. Johnny shivered, and leaned into the kiss, letting Phil drag him close. His world tipped as Phil pressed him back into the mattress. A pillow supported his head, and he scrabbled to pull Phil down on top of him. The warm weight took his breath away, yet he missed Phil's lips as soon as they retreated.

"Do you want to stay here, or go back to New York?" Phil asked.

"Where will you be?"

"With you."

"Then I don't care where we go."

* * *

><p><strong>I did my best to stick roughly to what I implied through Reed and Johnny's conversation after Phil's party, re. Johnny's kind of attempted suicide. Not a very good effort, in retrospect, but scary enough to freak out Phil Coulson. And that's not easy to do.<strong>

**Did I scar anyone with this? If so, I apologise. I mean, there's a warning, and anyone who read 'The Agent and the Human Torch' would know that Johnny had tried to kill himself.**


	8. Don't Go

"Don't Go"

"Johnny, we need to talk."

Johnny sat up a bit straighter, as much as his lethargic body would allow. Phil was dressed, ready for work, which was annoying. Johnny wanted to keep him in bed all day, just once, instead of losing him to SHIELD. Okay, there'd been a few times they had the day off together, but that was usually due to injury. After last night…

Crap. Phil had said that he loved Johnny.

"Oh?" he said, internally panicking. Love. Did Phil want commitment? Not that Johnny had been sleeping around; Phil was enough for him. But was this one of those big relationship discussions where people told each other their feelings? How would Phil react if Johnny said he didn't love him?

If? He meant when. Obviously.

"…should spend some time apart?"

Johnny blinked, trying to keep his eyes open properly. His body was still drowsy, and his brain was trying to compensate.

"Mmm?" he said.

"Or maybe… just stop this thing between us? Before it gets serious?"

Serious. A bad word. Johnny definitely couldn't handle serious. He nodded.

"Yeah, good idea," he said, while he tried to catch up with things. Phil wanted them to break up. He… he wanted… what?

An unnoticed pressure on his lips let up, and Johnny nearly went cross-eyed when he realised that Phil's face was so close to his. He'd kissed Johnny. Right? He'd just kissed Johnny?

"Goodbye, John… Mr. Storm," Phil said. Johnny blinked again, and watched dumbly as Phil walked out of the kitchen. Leaving him. Forever.

What?

"What just happened?" he murmured to himself. He touched his mouth, wishing that he could still feel Phil's lips. He almost could, if he concentrated on a memory. But memories would fade with time; at least the tactile ones would. He didn't want them to fade. He wanted Phil _here_.

"_Love you, Johnny."_

He wanted to hear that again. He wanted Phil to say that, and make Johnny's heart jump, just like it did whenever he saw Phil smile, or whenever Phil was touching him, or looking at him, or just being in the same room. Just thinking about Phil made him ache with wanting him to be there.

Without a thought, and no idea how long it'd been, Johnny leapt off the kitchen stool and ran into the main living area. No sign of him.

"Phil!" he shouted. There was no answer. Johnny ran to the elevator, and saw the numbers descending, no doubt taking Phil with them. There was only one thing to do.

Well, two things, but taking the stairs was a bitch.

Johnny sprinted to one of the larger windows, pulling off his pyjamas as he went, leaving him in one of the pairs of fireproof boxers Reed had made for him. He opened the window, leapt out, and said, "Flame on!"

Bursting into a fireball, he pelted down to street level, and came to a stop at the front door of the Baxter Building. He flamed off, went inside, and was in front of the elevator door as soon as it slid open. Only Phil was in there. Phil, who was wiping his cheeks. He looked up at Johnny, and his eyes grew wide. Johnny backed him into a corner, hitting the button for their floor as he went.

"Explain," he said. "Now I'm awake, you tell me why the hell you're dumping me, because I think I deserve an explanation."

"You… you agreed to a split—"

"Because last night you told me you loved me, and I've been freaking out!"

Phil stared at him. "I don't remember…"

Johnny backed off, deflating. "Of course not. Stupid of me. I'm sorry."

"Was I nearly asleep?"

"Yeah. Like I was when you broke up with me five minutes ago."

"How did you get downstairs so fast?"

"How do you think?" Johnny said, raising his eyebrows. "I jumped out the window."

"Johnny!"

"What? I'm not letting you go without an explanation, Phil."

"Well… well, why do you care so much? You wouldn't be freaking out about me telling you I love you if the sentiment was reciprocated."

"If the sentiment…" Johnny glared across the elevator at his ex. "Jesus, Phil, didn't it occur to you that I might've been freaking out because I'm not used to this? I've never been in love before, not until you, so it's not like I knew what these feelings meant."

"You… you don't have to say it, just to make me stay."

"Phil, I flew out of a building to stop you from leaving. I think that says a hell of a lot, don't you?" Phil gave him a small smile, and looked down at his feet. "I… I think I love you, Phil. I really do. I didn't know until I lost you, which sucks. But now I know, which counts for something, right?"

"Yeah, it does," Phil said. It looked like he was trying to stop himself from smiling too widely. Johnny wasn't going to let him hold back.

"Don't go," he whispered.

"Oh, Johnny…"

"Please," Johnny said. "I'll get down on my knees and beg if I have to. Just… if you love me, why do you wanna leave me?"

It was then that someone coughed. Neither of them had realised that the elevator had stopped, and a crowd of four or five people were watching them with varying looks of shock, including a couple of the women Johnny had tried hitting on. He grinned awkwardly, giving them a small, stupid wave. Then he turned back to face Phil.

"I… guess I should tell you," Phil said. "I'll have to call Fury first, tell him I'll be late for work."

"You don't mind being late for work?"

"This is more important to me."

"We'll, uh, wait for it to come back down," one of the guys said, and he stepped back. The doors shut, and the elevator continued its steady climb upwards.

Johnny Storm was in love with Agent Phil Coulson. Agent Phil Coulson apparently loved Johnny Storm right back.

Whatever was wrong, they'd damn well fix it together, because Johnny wasn't letting happiness get away from him. Not this time.

* * *

><p><strong>Trying to be different with my endings, as always. Originally, Johnny was going to chase Phil on foot, and stop him from leaving the apartment. Then I realised that Johnny's introspection had gone on so long that Phil was probably already in the lift (we call them lifts in Australia, not elevators). So Johnny had to do the whole leap of faith, both metaphorically and physically. Well, kind of. He knew he wouldn't actually fall to his death. Although at that time of the morning, he could still have been taking a risk.<strong>

**Please review!**


	9. No Time Like the Present

"No Time Like the Present"

Phil inhaled, then exhaled slowly. He wasn't sure how welcome he'd be, if the others knew about the break-up. But Fury had told him to go back to Johnny, and damned if Phil wasn't good at following orders. The orders he wanted to follow, that is. In this case, it had taken very little encouragement to send him straight back to the Baxter.

Reed and Susan were clearly still at the conference, and Ben had accompanied Alicia to her gallery opening, so it was possible that they were sleeping in. That was why it had just been Phil and Johnny in the kitchen only an hour ago.

And Johnny, it turned out, was still there.

He looked up when Phil coughed, and turned to face the door. His expression lifted, and Phil decided that he'd never seen anything more stunning in his whole life.

"Phil," Johnny said, and he climbed off the stool. "You're back."

"Yes. I—"

"Come on." Johnny grabbed Phil by the arm and dragged him to their— his bedroom. Phil frowned, wondering what Johnny had in mind. Had he forgotten about this morning?

"Johnny?"

"Look, I didn't even realise you were kissing me until you were nearly out the door," he said. "I couldn't think, or move, or say anything to stop you. So," he pushed Phil towards the bed. "I want a proper send-off, if you don't mind."

The words slowly processed in Phil's mind. "Johnny, it doesn't have to be—"

"I get that you don't want me anymore," Johnny said, interrupting again. "You don't need to explain. But I want more than just a not-memory of a kiss. Would you at least give me that?"

"Shush," Phil said, annoyed, and he caught Johnny's hands in his. "I'll tell you why, but this doesn't have to be a send-off. If you want me to leave after I explain, I'll leave, no questions asked, no entreaties."

"…You wanna retract the break-up?"

"I didn't even want to break up with you in the first place," Phil murmured, and he stroked Johnny's ear. He loved Johnny's ears. He loved everything about him, even his arrogance, his complete lack of a sense of self-preservation, his flirtatious and teasing manner. The whole package. "Can we sit down?"

Johnny nodded, and they perched on the side of the bed.

"Shoot," he said.

"Several months ago, I was tracking a mercenary named Hawkeye. He's an archer, and an assassin. I could see that he had potential as a field agent. He was only doing it to survive, not because he wanted to. There was some good in him, and I knew SHIELD could tap that. So… well, I shot him in the leg, because he's pretty damn good at getting away." He smiled when Johnny snickered. "He wasn't too happy about that. But he's proven a difficult case, going through handlers faster than any other agent. He needs to be with someone capable of… I don't like the word discipline, but supervision. I was the only one left to ask."

"So your boss told you to break it off with me, so you could concentrate on this kid?"

"No," Phil said, and he looked away for a moment. "I chose to… to—"

"Dump me."

"…Yes. I can't deny that. But hear me out. Please." Johnny was frowning, but he nodded. "Barton – his name is Clint Barton – will be a handful. I can see it. But he'll be worth it in the end. If I'm right, any team he's on will be the best. He's used to working alone, so it would have to be a small team. Just one or two other people, at most, and we'd have to work up to that. If we succeeded, and became the best team at SHIELD, we'd be sent off to remote places to undertake the most dangerous missions."

"And you worried that you'd… what, cheat on me?"

"What? Never!" Phil entwined his fingers with Johnny's. "I'd never do that to anyone, least of all you. But I'd never have enough time to see you. I wouldn't want _you_ to feel lonely, and…"

"I wouldn't cheat on you, either," Johnny said softly. He let go of one hand, and cupped Phil's chin, tilting his head so their gazes could meet. "You're all mine."

"You still want me?"

"Yeah." Johnny kissed him gently. "So why'd you come back?"

"My boss said he'd take over Barton's case, and told me to come back to you. If ever there was an order I'd obey without question, this is it."

"What if your boss doesn't succeed?"

Phil sighed. "Barton _has_ killed people. He'd either have to be imprisoned or executed."

Johnny sucked in a sharp breath. "That's harsh."

"It is. But we can't let him back into the world like this. Just for being on SHIELD premises for so long, even if he didn't know anything about us, there'd be a price on his head. No matter how good he is, he'd be dead within a fortnight, a month at the most, and it wouldn't be a pleasant way to go."

Johnny moved closer, right into Phil's personal space. "We can work around it. We'll see each other whenever we can. Or I could join SHIELD, and promise not to ask you questions about anything above my security clearance. I could help with his training."

"I was thinking about suggesting that he learn how to fly."

"There. You see?"

Phil rested his forehead against Johnny's, and laughed softly. "All right, all right. I'm sure Nick will be happy to let you on board. You know, I thought all this time that I was still supposed to be your liaison. It turns out he was just keeping me on here because he knew that I was happier with you… than I've _ever_ been in my life."

"I don't wanna lose you, Phil. You said you loved me."

"I did?"

"Last night. You were nearly asleep, and you said you loved me. I think I love you, too, Phil."

"…I'm very glad to hear that, Johnny."

They stayed like that for a few more minutes. Then Johnny sighed through his nose, and raised his head.

"Enough talk," he said. "If I'm not getting break-up sex, I want get-back-together sex."

Phil laughed again, and allowed Johnny to tackle him onto the covers. Before they could start stripping, however, he cupped Johnny's cheek to get his attention.

"One more reason I thought a split would be best," he said.

"What's that?"

"Because… it only takes one mission going wrong. If I didn't come back… I didn't want you to go through that."

Johnny looked haunted, too haunted for someone his age. "Neither do I. So let's make the most of the time we have together, okay?"

To break the sombre mood, Phil lowered his head, and whispered directly into Johnny's ear, "And you always have the best ideas when it comes to making the most of time, don't you?"

With a slow grin, Johnny rolled Phil onto his back.

* * *

><p><strong>So much emotional stuff. When I start posting (I'm writing the whole story before I post) I'll most likely leave it a couple of days between chapters, just to give you a bit of a break from the schmoop. Unless you request otherwise.<strong>

**Review, please!**


	10. To the Rescue

"To the Rescue"

"So."

Phil scowled at Johnny, who looked down, face turning pink.

"Yes?" Phil said acerbically.

"Uh, well, I don't see my family doing this kinda thing," Johnny said.

"Is that so."

"They could never get the jump on you. But your people…"

Phil rolled his eyes, and tugged at the handcuffs. He'd woken only a couple of minutes before Johnny, and he'd had enough time to watch his ex asleep. There was a certain beauty about a relaxed Johnny Storm, which Phil only really got to see in moments like that. Not that he was too preoccupied with staring at Johnny. (Not _too_ preoccupied.) He was more concerned about the fact that one or both of them had been rendered unconscious by person or persons unknown, and handcuffed to a queen-sized bed. He certainly didn't have time to notice Johnny's eyelashes, or the small snuffling noises he made as he woke up, or the way he snuggled into Phil's side when he tried to move away.

Not that there was anywhere to go.

"They wouldn't do this," he said. "They wouldn't be that stupid."

"Then who would? What would _anyone_ gain by tying us up together?"

"I… don't know."

"No theories?"

"Of course not."

"Well." Johnny nodded pointedly towards the handcuffs. "You haven't even tried to pick the locks yet, have you?"

"In case you haven't noticed, the locks aren't in an obvious place. I needed you to be awake while I examined them."

"Why?"

"Because," Phil said, "I didn't want to risk being scalded if I startled you."

Johnny shrugged, as much as he could in handcuffs. "Never happened when we were together," he said.

"We're not together anymore."

"I know."

He glanced at Johnny, noting the sharp tone. He wasn't looking at Phil, and his lips were tightly pursed. Phil forced himself to look away, and instead concentrate on their restraints. (And didn't that take him back…) No physical locks. They were smooth, probably digital, and any breaks were artfully concealed. Also, he wasn't wearing much at all, and nothing of use was within reach. Whoever was responsible for this was thorough.

"You could be right," he said. Johnny didn't reply. "It could be one of my colleagues. Do you feel pain anywhere?"

"My arms are aching, for obvious reasons," Johnny said. "And it's morning, so…" He glanced down, blush growing, and Phil didn't have to look to know what other kind of ache Johnny was referring to.

"Could you try?" Phil asked.

"Try what? I can't exactly reach it," Johnny said, sounding irritated.

"Not that," Phil said witheringly. "The cuffs. Can you try melting them?"

"I could hurt you!"

"No, you couldn't. You kept us cool on a hot summer day. I know you can localise the heat." Phil showed every ounce of conviction he had. "John, I trust you to do this."

Johnny stared at him for a long time. There was such a sadness in his eyes, almost longing, and he listed towards Phil, lips parted. Phil wanted to move, so much, preferably towards Johnny; but he was frozen. Johnny paused, sighed, and then twisted in place to look at the handcuffs. Phil dropped his gaze, wondering what the hell was wrong with him, and what was going on. A few minutes of silence passed, and there was a heat emanating from Johnny's hands. But the metal loops around Phil's wrists remained cool.

Eventually, Johnny swore, and slumped back down.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I can't make it any hotter than that without the risk of burning you."

"I don't mind a few burns if it means we can get out of here," Phil said.

"Wha… what?" Johnny stared at him. "You'd prefer to be in pain than be stuck here with…" He visibly swallowed, and his jaw tightened. "Too bad. You'll have to think of something else, because _I'm_ not gonna be the one to hurt you. You might not have a problem with hurting m— someone, but I'm not… just, no."

Phil tried to think of something; really, he did. But his mind kept drifting back to Johnny's reactions. He could understand how his words might have hurt Johnny; but the wounds seemed deeper than that.

"I'm sorry," he said, surprising himself. Johnny seemed apathetic.

"Sorry for what?" he asked dully.

"I… didn't mean to hurt you."

"When?"

"…When what?"

"Which time that you hurt me?"

Phil's mouth opened and closed. What? "What?" he said.

"Whenever you left in the morning before I got up?" Johnny said. "Whenever you put SHIELD before me? Or how about when you broke up with me after finally saying that you _loved me_? Goddamnit!"

He tugged violently on the chains, still avoiding eye contact. Phil's world was currently being turned on its head.

"When… when did I say I love—"

"And you don't even remember," Johnny said, nodding. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey!" Phil said, voice like a whip. "Did you ever say those words to me?"

"N… n-no." Johnny glanced at him, but quickly looked away again. "Why would I? I didn't know you felt… like that."

"Would it have made a difference?"

"Maybe." All the energy seemed to seep out of him. "Didn't know it was that serious between us."

"It wasn't," Phil said, shaking his head. "Maybe that's the problem."

Johnny swallowed again. "Or maybe… maybe it _was_ that serious, like… like everyone said it was, but the problem was that we just didn't want to admit it. To ourselves or each other." Phil watched him, heart racing. "Maybe we were just scared… of love."

"Or not being loved," Phil said, when Johnny seemed to run out of words. "I did…" He thought about it. "I do love you, Johnny." Johnny exhaled slowly. "Do you?"

Johnny was quiet for a minute. Then, "Yeah. I love you."

"Okay."

"Sounds good to me," someone else piped up.

They looked at each other, and then at the ceiling. Agent Barton was grinning from a growing gap in the tiles.

"Sorry about the knock-out darts," he said. "Good to know they worked. And the adamantium cuffs, or whatever they're made of." He held out a remote, aimed it at them, and pressed a button. The handcuffs clicked open with an electronic beep. They both moved their arms back to their sides slowly, rubbing the aches away. Phil scowled up at Barton.

"Who put you up to this?" he asked.

"Who d'you think?" Barton said, tilting his head in a manner befitting the nickname Hawkeye.

"Director Fury?"

"And his sister, and brother-in-law," Barton said, pointing at Johnny. "Who d'you think supplied me with the darts? Well." He winked. "My work here is done. I'm gonna go before you get to all the gay sex and sweet nothings."

"Or sweet sex and gay nothings," Johnny said. The old glint of mischief was creeping back into his eyes, and Phil's heart lifted.

"You'd better get going, then," Phil said. Barton grinned, saluted, and disappeared. The ceiling tile slid back into place without a sound.

Then Johnny pounced on top of Phil, and made good on Barton's suggestions. (And his own.)

* * *

><p><strong>Yep. Definitely cue the gay sex that I won't be writing. Trying to keep this non-smutty, only suggestive.<strong>

**On my Tumblr, I'm willing to take prompts for three-sentence Coulstorm fics. Even just one word as a prompt. I like writing three-sentence fics; it's a challenge, and I do like to challenge myself.**

**Please review!**


	11. May I Have This Dance?

"May I Have This Dance?"

Phil stayed for the whole ceremony. He'd always liked Alicia and Ben, just as he had the rest of the Fantastic Four; but it would be lying to say that he wasn't using their wedding as an excuse to see Johnny, even though it was just from a distance. And the moment Johnny looked in his direction, Phil disappeared.

Or, to be more accurate, tried to.

"Where do you think you're going?" Fury asked, staring Phil down.

"Back to work, sir."

"No, you're not."

"Director?"

"You're staying, and you're going to go say hi."

"I didn't get an invite."

"And yet you ended up on the guest list," Fury said, raising his eyebrow.

"They won't be expecting me," Phil said. He heard people making their way to the door, and led the director into the shadows. The reception was being held just down the hall, which was convenient. But it also meant that people weren't going to hang around in a place filled with chairs when they could walk a hundred and fifty yards to a place filled with food and drink.

"I contacted Mrs. Grimm, and told her that you'd show up, but not to tell anyone."

"She'll tell Ben," Phil said. His heart was racing. Usually, a year would be more than enough time to get over someone. He never expected to feel so strongly about Johnny that he was still pining – obsessed – thirteen months after their break-up.

"Is he gonna tell Storm?"

Just then, there was the distinct rumbling of Ben's steps, and Phil could hear Johnny's voice, not as light as it used to be, but cheerful enough. Phil forced them further into hiding. He berated himself for being a coward. It would look even worse if he appeared now.

He watched as Sue and Reed emerged behind Ben and Alicia, followed by Johnny. He stopped where he was for a moment, and looked left and right. His gaze almost settled in their corner, and it took everything in Phil not to step out and say 'Here I am, Johnny; please take me back'. He waited, hardly breathing, until Reed asked him what was wrong. Johnny didn't say anything; he just followed his family, and the rest of the guests, to the reception room. The doors weren't closed all the way, but most of the noise was muffled.

"Let's go," Phil said, and he went to push past the director. Fury stopped him with a hand to his chest.

"Let's not," he said. He all but dragged Phil to the doors, although he conceded to halting outside them. Reed's best man speech was short, and sometimes awkward. Sue's eye-rolls were audible, or maybe Phil knew her well enough to predict her reactions. Either Reed hadn't let her edit it, or he'd lost the edited version and brought the first draft. It was a good thing he hadn't ended up bringing papers of scientific formulae instead.

Tables of food and drink lined the room, buffet-style, and there was no sit down menu. To tell the truth, they would have had to build extra-strong furniture for Ben, and good luck putting the suggestion tactfully.

Eventually they reached the entertainment. Alicia and Ben had their first dance as a married couple. It was sweet the way she put herself in his hands, and he held her like she was the most delicate of flowers. Neither was leading; they were moving as one entity, just as it should be. Just as Phil always imagined it would be, if he married Johnny. Married anyone, that is. He would have loved to be in a relationship like that, where they knew each other so well that banter flowed easily, where their bodies worked as one in and out of the bed. Where, when they were pressed together, their heartbeats were in synch. Something like he'd had with Johnny Storm.

Phil couldn't help the tears that clumped his eyelashes together, and bowed his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He'd never known what they had was ideal. Arguments were few and far between, because they weren't always in each other's hair, and they knew the risks involved in their respective lines of work. It made their relationship strong, always fearing that they'd never see each other again, and that a cross word could be the last they ever said to the other. Time was too precious for that, and they'd come to know that after a few close calls. Even their break-up was sedate.

Phil almost wished it hadn't been. He wished that Johnny had fought for him, not just let him walk away. It showed how little Phil had mattered in the end. He was Johnny's first after he became the Human Torch, his first man, his first long-term relationship. Not that it was a relationship.

Except it had been. Phil couldn't deny it any longer.

"Are you crying?" Fury asked. Phil nodded, and pulled out his handkerchief. It was one of the ones Johnny had bought him after… "Dry up, okay?"

Phil realised too late that Fury had snagged his mobile. He folded the hanky rapidly and slid it back into his pocket. By then, Fury had done something.

"What did you do?" Phil said.

"Sent Storm a message."

"…Saying what?"

"'May I have this dance?'"

Phil nearly groaned. "You didn't."

"I did. Now get in there, and get your man," Fury said, and he pushed Phil through the gap in the doors. Phil felt the weight of his phone, and fished it out. He looked up. By now, Johnny was dancing with Sue. The music finished, and they stopped. Then Johnny held up a hand, reaching into his pocket with the other one, and Sue nodded. Reed came and took her back while Johnny read what was on the screen, and Phil faltered. If the director was gone, there was a good chance he could escape before…

Johnny looked up and met Phil's eyes. His expression lifted, and Phil's lungs decided to stop working. Even his heart gave up for a few seconds, only kicking back into gear when the gaze was broken. He began to breathe again, watching as Johnny typed something onto his phone. Moments later, Phil received a message, and opened it.

'Sure Thing.'

Phil laughed at the unsubtle pun, and smiled across the room at Johnny. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Alicia talking to the band. Moving through the crowd of other wedding guests, Phil made his way to Johnny's side. Before he got there, he switched off his phone and tucked it away. For once, he was going to put his personal life before work. He wasn't the only one at SHIELD who could deal with crises.

"No one told me you were coming," Johnny said. It felt so good to hear his voice at close quarters that Phil's heart soared. He shrugged.

"The computer invited me," he said. Johnny grinned, and ducked his head. Phil couldn't help reaching out and circling his hand around Johnny's left wrist. A half-wince appeared to cross Johnny's face, but it cleared in a second.

"You said something about a dance?" he said.

The music started again, something slow and vaguely familiar. Phil nodded, and Johnny led him further onto the dance floor. They received some odd looks; but when Johnny slid an arm around Phil's waist, and twisted his captured hand until their fingers were linked, Phil stopped caring about anything else. He held onto Johnny's arm with his free hand, and shuffled closer. The band leader began to sing.

"_Some enchanted evening,_

_You may see a stranger,_

_You may see a stranger_

_Across a crowded room…_"

"I didn't see this happening, ever," Johnny said. "Not the past year. You weren't there for Susie and Reed's wedding—"

"I was," Phil said. "When the Silver Surfer moved his operation to Asia, I was among the SHIELD agents sent out. By the time we got there, you'd sorted out the problem. I stayed, and watched from a distance." He dropped his gaze. "I didn't want to interrupt a family occasion."

"You're family," Johnny said softly. "You were. You can still be. I mean, you're here now."

"I can't imagine I'm very popular," Phil said, finally looking back up. He immediately got caught in those steely eyes with an edge of fire, and words stopped working. "Uh…"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Phil said, kind of dazed. "You're gorgeous. That's all."

"Oh." Johnny's cheeks took on a pink hue. "Thanks. So are you."

"Well, I'm not re—"

"Yes, you are. You really are, Phil. I've always thought so."

Phil knew he was starting to tremble, and tried to stop it. He rested his head on Johnny's chest, unable to look him in the eye anymore, and tried to breathe evenly. "I'm so sorry about what happened."

Johnny's steps faltered, but he kept going.

"You dumping me?" he asked. "Is that what you mean?"

Phil nodded, hoping he wasn't messing up Johnny's suit jacket. "I had my reasons."

"Uh-huh. And those were…?"

"I was about to become very busy at work, much busier than I already was. I didn't want to neglect you, and I knew that if we stayed together, and I wasn't around, we'd start fighting. And I don't want to fight with you, Johnny, at all. We would have broken up, and it wouldn't have been nice."

"It was bad enough, and I didn't get any say in it!"

Phil clutched Johnny's arm, and wiggled his fingers so that Johnny would relax his own grip. It didn't work.

"I wasn't thinking about me," he said. "I was thinking about you, and about a man whose life was at stake. If I didn't help him, no one else would be able to, and he'd either be imprisoned at best, killed at worst. I didn't want to leave you, Johnny." He looked up into Johnny's angry eyes, wanting him to see the truth. "You weren't looking for anything permanent with me, and there wouldn't have been enough time to even see you, let alone make love to you. Don't you see that I wanted to give you freedom?"

"How would you know?" Johnny said. "How would you know whether or not I was looking for something permanent? I didn't want you to leave me, Phil. I would've taken _anything_ I could get." They stopped dancing, ignoring the couples who had to move around them. "Love?"

"What?"

"You said 'make love'. Is that what we were doing? It wasn't just sex? Because you'd run off in the morning. If it was love, you would've stayed."

Phil massaged Johnny's arm. "If I thought my feelings weren't one-sided, I would have."

Johnny stared at him for a long moment. Then he pulled away, leaving Phil standing alone, and walked over to Alicia and Susan, who were dancing together. He spoke to them, kissed them both on the cheek, waved to Ben and Reed, and returned to Phil.

"Let's take this outside," he said. He led Phil, fingers entwined again, out into the hall. Phil was relieved to see that Fury was gone (or just hidden damn well). He couldn't think any further than that, because Johnny's lips were on his, and his hands under Phil's jacket and crossed behind his back. Phil let him take the lead in this, and sank back into the hold. He rested his hands on Johnny's shoulders, and opened his mouth when prompted. He let Johnny drink his fill, and basked in the feeling of being surrounded by warmth and affection, the kind he'd never known until now.

It wasn't until he felt Johnny's erection that Phil realised what they were doing wasn't exactly child-friendly viewing, and was compelled to put a stop to it. He caught his breath, staring at Johnny's shining lips and trying to get his mind in order.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"For you," Johnny said. "For this whole damn day, and getting to hold you again. Even if you leave after this, and never speak to me again, I'll have this to remember."

"No. No, no, no," Phil said, and he hauled Johnny closer. "If I begged, did whatever was necessary, would you consider trying this again? Just one date, that's all I'm asking for."

Johnny kissed his cheek. "No begging." The other. "No weird requests." His nose. "More than one date, if you don't mind." His lips. "Yeah, I've already considered it. Since I got that message, and saw you standing there, I've considered it."

Thank you, Nick, Phil thought. "And?"

Johnny blinked quickly. "Well, and yes. Of course. What part of me eating your face didn't you get?"

Phil chuckled, and took Johnny's hands in his. "I think we've already concluded that I'm an idiot. Can we get back to the kissing now?"

"We can get back to a lot more if you come upstairs to the room I've booked."

"…You booked a room?" Phil asked, tensing.

"Yeah. This wedding's gonna make Sue all gooey-eyed and romantic, and I won't be able to handle being in the same building as the two of them tonight. Besides, if I got pissed I wouldn't have far to go."

"To go with anyone else," Phil said, and he moved back. Johnny caught his wrists.

"No," he said. "From the very start of the ceremony, I knew I couldn't go to bed with anyone else. Not tonight. I haven't since we broke up, and I wasn't going to start on Alicia and the Thing's wedding day."

Phil acknowledged to himself that he didn't have the right to feel jealous, and returned Johnny's hold. This time, there was a definite wince, and Phil pulled Johnny's hands up to see what was hurting him. Were the cufflinks digging into his skin?

Something white caught his eye. Johnny was trying to pull his arms back, and Phil surrendered one. He used his free hand to push up the jacket sleeve. He stared at the lines of scarred flesh, and felt sick.

"Johnny," he whispered on an exhale. "What…"

"It was last month," Johnny said, his head bent close. "The anniversary of our… b-break-up."

Phil swallowed, and he stroked the skin around the wounds. "I can't believe you would do that. What were you _thinking_?"

"In my defence, I was drunk."

Phil almost snapped at him; but then he noted Johnny's expression, haunted, fearful, resigned. It was like he was expecting Phil to reject him for this.

"I don't deserve you," Phil said, and he kissed Johnny's wrist. He caught and raised the other, and pressed his lips to the matching scars. "You shouldn't have done this. I'm not worth all the pain."

"Yeah, you are," Johnny said. "Do you hate me?"

"I hate what you did, not you." Phil cupped his cheek, and tilted his head down. "You, I love. And I really hope you don't hate me for what I caused you to do."

"If I hated you, I wouldn't have been getting drunk and wishing I was dead, wondering what I'd done to piss you off so much that you'd leave me. Or wondering what your new boyfriend was like."

"No one new. I swear." Phil kissed Johnny, hard. "God, how can you even look at me after what you've been through? It was my fault. My… my fault you—"

"Hey." Phil sensed something wet on his cheeks. As Johnny brushed it away, he realised that they were tears. Again. "Come on. It was stupid, but I didn't kill myself, so it's all good. And I've got you back now. Why are you…? Here." He pulled the handkerchief out of Phil's pocket and began to dry his cheeks. "This is already damp. Why? Did you cry during the wedding?" He said it in a teasing tone, but Phil couldn't crack a smile.

"When I saw you during the reception," he said. "I was just outside the doors, looking at you on the other side of the room and missing you so much that it physically hurt."

"I kept picturing you in a tux," Johnny said. "The kind you'd wear on your wedding day."

"Who were you picturing as my spouse-to-be?" Phil asked, his voice softer. Johnny's face fell.

"Some lucky guy who wasn't me," he said. "It hurt."

Phil sighed, and he wound his arms around Johnny. "We can't stop hurting each other."

"Only because we're not there to fix it."

"If… if you can forgive me—"

"Already done."

"I can be there. Anytime."

"Okay." Johnny kissed him gently. "It's a deal. Come up to my room?"

* * *

><p><strong>I think it's safe to assume that Phil said 'hell yes', or words to that effect.<strong>

**He'll try to be sensible about it, but the guilt will linger for a long time. There's a long road ahead of them, but the only way they'll make it to the end will be if they're together. Or something. End of metaphor-or-whatever-the-hell-this-is.**

**Please review, m'dears!**


	12. Legal and Drunk

**I am 100% in favour of same-sex marriage, and I wish that everyone was. Heck, there are many types of marriage discrimination all over the world, not just gender-based discrimination, and I wish it weren't so. I many generally be anti-human, but I'm pro-love. Discrimination is illogical, and illogic offends me.**

**Any typos in Phil's message are deliberate.**

"Legal and Drunk"

_24__th__ of July, 2011, New York City_

Live on TV, the Marriage Equality Act was enacted. Several SHIELD agents, including Phil, were watching in a bar, and began cheering along with everyone else. Phil wasn't the only non-heterosexual at SHIELD, and was pleased to have been invited along for the celebration. He ordered his fourth drink for the night, hugging and being hugged by random strangers along the way. (Well, he couldn't hug any of his co-workers, could he?)

His phone buzzed as he got back to the table, slightly less steady than he'd been at the start of the evening. He pulled out his cell and squinted to read the message.

'Congrats. You deserve the best, Cheese.'

He smirked at Fury's message, and typed a reply.

'Thx. U shoulder get license so u can mrry us. But ur bestest man, Marcus Moo.'

Yeah, that was good enough. He sent it without a second thought, and downed half the glass. Then he ran his thumb over the screen.

"Who would you marry, Coulson?" one of the female agents asked, suddenly gripping his shoulder. He cocked his head.

"Don't know," he said. "Who would you marry, Lisa?"

"Romanov, all the way," she said. "But she wouldn't want me. Doesn't even know my name." (They'd all had a bit to drink, for that matter. Except for their two designated drivers, who were both non-drinkers.)

"You ever been in love?" he asked.

"Nah," she said. "Except my third grade teacher. She was cute." She drained her current drink. One of their designated drivers removed it from her hand. She didn't even notice. "What about you, Coulson? Ever been in love?"

"Yeah," he said, propping his chin up with one hand. "But I ended it."

They all expressed surprise, and asked why.

"Remember when Barton started out?" Phil said. He knew that at least this wasn't classified. They all knew about Clint Barton's inauspicious start at SHIELD. "Well, he was assigned to me. But I knew I wouldn't be able to spend as much time with my boyfriend. It was only casual, anyway. Friends with… whatever. Fennybits."

"Benefits?"

"That," he said, pointing at the agent. "That's the word. Knew he didn't love me, so I figured we should end it. You know, before either of us cheated on the other. Not that we were really together. It wasn't a relationship."

"But you loved him," one of the other female agents said.

"Didn't matter," Phil said, and he sculled the rest of his drink. "He's a commitment phobe. It wouldn't have worked out." He sighed. "I was the first guy he was ever with. You know… like _that_."

"There's nothing wrong with calling up and saying 'hi', is there?" Lisa said. "I mean, this'd still mean something to him, if he's bi."

"He won't wanna talk to me," Phil said. His head slid off his hand, and he nearly thumped his chin on the table. He realised that he'd put his cell phone down. He played with the screen, and found that Johnny was still number two on his emergency contact list, after Fury.

"Just try," she said, elbowing him. "I'll get you another drink."

"Probably not a good idea," their other driver said. But she'd already disappeared towards the bar, and Phil's thumb was hovering over the call button. He let the other conversations wash over him. Someone called out that the Empire State Building was rainbow-coloured, but then some lethal cocktails were being mixed, so it was probably a hallucination.

"Here," Lisa slurred, placing a scotch in front of him, half a drink in her other hand. Phil frowned at it, considering the advisability of having yet another drink. "C'mon, Coulson. On this suspicious occasion, you need to call your ex and tell him you wanna marry him. `Cause you do, don't you?"

"Yeah," Phil said, drawing out the word. "Wanna marry him. But he won't want me."

"It's legal now," she said. "We can marry whoever we want! Just… I dunno, go out on a branch."

"Start the new law with a re… rejec… Rejection?"

"Start the lew naw telling someone you love them."

Phil stared at her. Then he downed his drink, picked up his phone, and hit the button to call Johnny. He waved to the others as he wandered – _not_ staggered, thank you very much – out of the bar.

* * *

><p>Johnny stared at the caller ID. Why was Phil Coulson calling him just fifteen minutes after gay marriage was legalised in New York? No. It had to be a coincidence. He shrugged, and answered.<p>

"Uh… is that you, Phi— Agent Coulson?" he asked, catching himself at the last moment.

"I love you," Phil said. It was loud, and Johnny jerked his phone back. Then Phil's words registered.

"What?" he said. The others had clearly heard it, and were staring at him. Alicia had a little smile.

"You," Phil whined. "They make it legal, and you're the only one I can think about. I wanna marry you, only you, Johnny."

"…Uh-huh?" What the hell was he supposed to do? "Phil, I've gotta ask. It's kind of noisy where you are. Are you at a bar?"

"Had to celibate. No. Celebrate. That's it. Had to do that."

"Phil, are you _drunk_?"

"No!" Then it sounded like he stumbled, and someone yelled at him. "Maybe."

Johnny smiled, settling back. "I don't think I've ever heard you drunk before."

"I haven't been this happy since you," Phil said. He was panting a little, and the background noise was quieter. "That's why I wanna marry you. I know you don't want me, but…" He sighed. "Johnny. I love you. I love you. I love… you…"

"Phil, where are you?" Johnny asked slowly. "I'll come pick you up."

"Got drivers here. `S'all good."

"Never mind. I'll follow the GPS signal. Or get Director Fury to."

"Just wanted to tell you," Phil said. Sue signalled that she was calling Fury.

"Why did you break up with me, if you wanted to marry me?" Johnny asked. It was better to keep the conversation going.

"`Cause you're young, and I'm married to my work," Phil said. He sniffled. Oh God, Phil wasn't just a melancholy drunk. He was a crying melancholy drunk. "You deserve better. You always… let go… ones you… love…"

"You're not going to sleep, are you?" Johnny asked, worried about that very thing. There would be anti-gay marriage people out in the streets, and if Phil was on his own, and clearly celebrating… "You could get hurt. Don't break my heart like that, Phil. You did that four years ago."

"What heart?" Phil said, sounding harsh for someone who was smashed. "Never gave me your heart, Johnny. Wasn't mine to break."

Okay, they were getting towards dark conversation. Time to steer it in another direction.

"If we got married, where would it be?" Johnny asked. Phil grunted.

"Don't care, s'long as it was us," he said. "Your family would be there, and my friends. Not religious, so it wouldn't have to be church. Could do a registry chapel, if you wanted."

"I'm not picky," Johnny said. Sue had finished talking to Fury, and gave Johnny a thumbs up. She mouthed, 'Five minutes,' and he nodded. "What would you wear?"

"Suit," Phil said.

"Yeah, I get that," he said. "Though it'd be hot if you were in uniform."

"You never saw my uniform."

"I saw pictures," Johnny said.

"When?"

"When I was snooping around your place."

"Johnny!"

"You're a private guy, Phil. No wonder you'd prefer a registry office. So, if you weren't in uniform – or tac suit, that'd be hot, too – what tie would you wear?"

He could almost hear the drunken smirk. "Same one you bought for me after our first date, when you used the old one to jerk off."

Four heads swivelled to stare at him. Sue's mouth was opening and closing like a fish. Johnny rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. He probably should've turned down the speaker on the phone.

"Uh, where would we go for a honeymoon, if you could get the time off work?" he asked.

"Somewhere…" It took longer than usual for Phil to think. "Somewhere cold, so you could keep me warm. All. Night. Long."

Johnny wasn't used to feeling this embarrassed in front of his family, and he coughed as he shifted in place. "Europe or North America?"

"Anywhere," Phil said. "But Canada has moose. Hey, maybe we could buy a moose!"

"Maybe," Johnny said. "Okay, so what else? Would you wanna adopt kids, if we could?"

"With our work? Nah. Bad idea."

"Pets, then. Would we get pets? Personally, I can see you with a dog. A real American dog. You'd call it Captain America, wouldn't you?"

"He's a hero!" Phil said. Johnny chuckled. "Like you, Johnny. You're a hero. You're _my_ hero."

Johnny chewed his bottom lip. He heard Fury's voice in the background.

"Guess that's your cue to go," he said.

"What?" Phil said. "Oh. Hey, boss. How'd you know where I was?"

"Magic," Fury said, ever the deadpan snarker. "C'mon. Say goodnight to Storm, and you can talk to him again tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Phil," Johnny said.

"Goodnight, Johnny," Phil replied.

"I'll marry you, if you really want me to."

"Ya don't have to," Phil said. "But thanks for saying it anyway."

Then he hung up, and Johnny pressed the end call button. He swallowed, and looked up at the others.

"You never heard any of that," he said. Alicia was sniggering behind her hand.

"I'll get on with designing that brain bleach," Reed said.

* * *

><p>When Phil finally climbed out of his bed on base, Natasha was waiting with a hangover remedy.<p>

"It's a show of how much I trust you that I'm drinking this blind," he said, pointing at her as he took the mug. Better than a glass. He didn't even want to think about what was in this. The less he saw of it, the less to speculate about.

"I was given the easy job," she said. "Barton's asleep now." Phil gave her a questioning look. "He stayed up all night, making sure you didn't choke on your own vomit while you slept."

"Remind me to send him a thank-you card," Phil said. "Or a cookie bouquet." He stomach roiled as he thought about food, and he returned to the bathroom. Now that he thought about it, he vaguely recalled Barton patting his back as Phil became well-acquainted with the toilet in the early hours of the morning. He stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflected bloodshot eyes, skin speckled around them, and a distinct oily glaze to his nose. He grimaced, told himself that Captain America would just suck this up, and downed the entire ghastly potion in one go. He nearly dropped the glass, and covered his mouth to keep the bile down.

"At least you weren't getting wasted with strangers," Natasha said.

"Thank you, Agent Romanov," Phil muttered. When he managed to keep the concoction down, he swallowed, and then began to pull off his clothes. "I need a shower."

"Yes, you do. You have a busy day." He groaned. "The director said something about ring-shopping?"

Phil frowned, trying to work out what she meant. "Just because the Marriage Equality Act has been passed here, it doesn't mean I'm just gonna go out and buy an engagement ring."

"Hmm." She shrugged, watching as he continued to strip. "He seemed to think that you had someone particular in mind. Well." She pushed away from the wall. "Call if you need anything."

"Agent Romanov," he said. She halted. "Natasha. Did I say anything, to either of you, about…?"

"You have forgotten last night," she said.

"Basically, I can't remember anything past my third drink," he said.

"Ah." She smiled enigmatically. "I believe that the good stuff didn't happen until your fourth. But as I wasn't there, I can't help you. You will have to ask the others, once they have also recovered from their… ordeals."

Phil swallowed, staring after her as she sauntered out. He finally got into the shower, and the cold water hit hard. He fiddled with the controls until the temperature was at a bearable level, and scrubbed his fingers through his hair.

_Pressing a scorching hot body against cool tiles… short hair under his hand… slick fingers creeping down Johnny's back…_

"Johnny," Phil whispered. His eyes shot open. "Goddamnit."

"_You. They make it legal, and you're the only one I can think about. I wanna marry you, only you, Johnny."_

Did Phil actually cry? He never cried in front of Johnny. Well, it was over the phone, so it didn't count. (Right?)

"_I'll marry you, if you really want me to."_

"_Ya don't have to. But thanks for saying it anyway."_

This was why Phil didn't drink. This was why he should've known better than to drink with subordinates who thought it was funny for him to call his ex and confess every damn thing. Even stuff Phil didn't know he felt. He didn't remember all of the conversation, but he was sure it was embarrassing, if his few memories were anything to go by.

It took a couple of hours for Phil to dry off, get dressed, choke down some food, brush his teeth, and summon the courage to leave his quarters. He had a vague recollection of Fury coming to get him, and decided that his first course of action would be to apologise to his boss-cum-best-friend. He raised his fist, inhaling and exhaling gradually, and knocked on the door. He winced at how loud it seemed in the otherwise quiet corridor.

"Come on in, Phil," Fury called. Phil glared up at the security camera few were aware of, and then twisted the doorknob.

The first thing he felt was utter panic, when he realised that Johnny Storm was sitting opposite his boss. Johnny didn't look pissed off, which Phil considered to be a good thing. He looked… calm, an emotion rarely associated with Johnny.

"Hey," Johnny said. Phil gulped.

"Hi," he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat, and glanced at Fury. "I'd like to apologise for last night, director. And, I guess, to you, Johnny." The Human Torch only raised an eyebrow, which didn't ease Phil's nerves. "I was drunk. My only excuse is that we were celebrating a victory for equality."

"Yeah, we were watching that on the news," Johnny said, and Phil nodded. "When you called me."

"…Ah."

"I'm gonna leave you two alone," Fury said, standing up. He gestured to the other chair, the one beside Johnny. "Sit down before you pass out, Agent Coulson."

"He's right," Johnny said. "You should sit down, Phil."

"Thanks for the heads up," Phil hissed at Fury as they passed each other. All he got from the director was a muffled laugh. Then the door closed, and they were alone. Phil sank into the seat beside his ex-boyfriend, and tried to avoid eye contact. But it was hard, when he knew he had to ask forgiveness, and beg Johnny never to mention this again. He took a deep breath, and went to speak.

Then Johnny dropped to one knee in front of Phil, pulling something out of his pocket, and Phil realised what was going to happen.

"Don't do this," he said. "You don't have to… after last night… I wouldn't hold you to—"

"I think we've established that I'm bi," Johnny said dryly. "You proved that seven years ago. Now I can marry a man if I want to, and I want that man to be you. I never wanted lifelong commitment with any of the women I've met; the thought kind of terrified me. But you changed everything. You changed me, the way I look at things, the way I interact with my family, the way I look at relationships. You were my first man, and you're the only person I've slept with since becoming the Human Torch. You're the only person I've ever actually been in love with, although I didn't see it `til last night. But I want to be with you forever. I know… I know we don't need to get married to make it official; but damn, it'd be nice. Now that people like us can marry each other, why the hell shouldn't we?"

"Johnny," Phil said. Johnny cupped his cheek, continuing to hold a small box in his other hand.

"I love you, too," he said. "Look, we've wasted four years not being together, and maybe we should try dating again, instead of rushing into anything." He knelt up, and brushed his nose against Phil's. Phil almost went cross-eyed, and felt kind of light-headed, but in a good way. Much better than this morning. Because Johnny loved him back. "But I'd feel a lot more secure if you'd wear this promise ring until… until it becomes an engagement ring. Okay?"

Phil stared at him. His heart was threatening to beat right out of his chest, and he could feel his blood rushing through his veins. (Well, what else would it rush through?) More than that, there was moisture on his cheeks. He noticed that Johnny was crying as well, and couldn't let him think that Phil didn't want him.

And so he launched himself into Johnny's arms, kissing him over and over. He tasted and felt Johnny's laughter as much as he heard it. They nearly ended up ass over elbow, and the ring box was digging into his back from where Johnny was trying to keep them both upright. Phil continued to kiss every inch of Johnny's face that he could reach, constantly coming back to his lips. He never wanted to stop.

"So…" Johnny finally evaded him. "Is this a yes?"

"Yes."

"To a promise ring?"

Phil pulled himself together, and looked Johnny straight in the eyes. "Engagement ring?"

Johnny stared at him, and then nodded. His hands shook violently as he opened the box and took out the ring. Phil helped him slide it on, and noticed that there was a second ring. He slid it onto Johnny's ring finger, and then kissed his knuckles.

"Yes to everything," Phil said.

"Good. I'm gonna hold you to that. Then you'll never get rid of me."

* * *

><p><strong>Happy ending, of course! And I'm writing this late at night only a few days before we're due to travel overseas, so I'm going to stop now. Oops.<strong>

**Please review, m'dears!**

**Edit: It's a momentous day to be posting this, as my sister is getting married in only a few hours' time.**


	13. Don't Leave Medical

**Clarification: the bit at the beginning in italics is from chapter six of 'The Agent and the Human Torch'.**

"Don't Leave Medical"

"_Wait, Johnny," Sue said, trying to grab him as he passed. He pushed her arm away._

"_Leave it, Susan," he said. "I'll see you guys later."_

"_But Phil might—"_

"_No more," he said, scowling. "I'm not waiting around for something that isn't going to happen."_

Johnny turned as he began to walk, and bumped right into someone. Slammed into them, to be more accurate, and the pain in his side flared up.

"What isn't going to happen?" Agent Phil Coulson asked. Great. Just another way to make Johnny's day even better.

"Nothing, like I said," Johnny replied, and he tried to walk past. Phil's iron grip on his arm pulled him up short.

"Why did you wince?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You winced," Phil said. "When you walked into me, you winced."

"…Just some scratches. Bumps, bruises. I'll take care of—"

"I know you, Johnny." Phil's eyes scanned him. "You don't flinch like that over superficial injuries."

"He hasn't been cleared by the medical staff," Susan said. Traitor. Johnny scowled at her. Phil just looked grateful.

"Thank you, Susan," he said. "Come on."

"Let go," Johnny said. He tried to pull away, but Phil didn't let up. Soon they were back at Johnny's bed.

"Sit," Phil said.

"I'm not a dog."

"Of course you're not. Dogs are obedient." Johnny resisted the urge to poke out his tongue. "Sit down, and let the medical staff do their job."

"Stop babying me, Phil!"

He'd forgotten how strong the man was, but he was reminded when Phil picked him up by the hips and sat him on the edge of the bed. He was probably one of the few in the room who knew that Phil could do that. Johnny had to fight a blush – and an erection – when he remembered where Phil's manhandling usually led them in the past. Judging by the look on his face, Phil had noticed it. The bastard smirked.

"Maybe we should establish a rewards system," Phil said. "You behave yourself and get checked out, and you'll get a treat. Sound fair?"

"We don't get treats," Barton said, his voice an annoying whine when Johnny was trying to have a Moment with Phil.

"What, you'll give me candy?" Johnny asked.

"How did you come by this injury?" Phil said, and he tapped Johnny's side where the bar had hit him. He hissed, and pulled Phil's hand away. But he kept his fingers wrapped around Phil's wrist, wanting to touch him just a bit longer. It was the first time in six years, and he wanted it to last as long as possible.

"W-when I was in Doom's machine," he said, after he regained the power of speech, "there was some kind of security measure. A metal pole swung around and hit me in the side."

Without ceremony, Phil unzipped Johnny's suit to the waist and pulled the fabric aside. Even Johnny had to admit that that was a nasty bruise. Phil murmured an apology, and probed the site. Johnny shut his eyes against the pain, trying to stay in control. His body would never burn Phil, not even as a defence mechanism. But the bedclothes… that could happen. And with all kinds of chemicals nearby, he didn't want to risk an explosion, in case Phil got hurt.

"I want this x-rayed," Phil told the nurse.

"Right away, Agent Coulson," she said, and she hurried out of the ward. Phil zipped the suit back up most of the way, and his hands lingered at the top.

"Where's my candy?" Johnny asked. "I expect a lot of sugar for going through an x-ray. You know the kind of special equipment they have to set up. I'm gonna expect at least two boxes of chocolate—"

Phil leaned in close, cutting off Johnny's train of thought. Everything was quiet.

"Actually, I was thinking along the lines of a blowjob," Phil said. Johnny made a choking sound; he couldn't help it. "You always seemed to enjoy those. But if you prefer sweets…"

Johnny shook his head. "No. No, a BJ sounds good. Perfect. But, uh, you probably shouldn't have said that before I have to go for an x-ray."

"It's just something for you to look forward to," he said. That damn smile was still hanging around the corners of his mouth, and his eyes were shining. Johnny felt like he was falling in love again. He was all out of words.

Apparently, Phil decided that speaking wasn't necessary. He lifted one hand from Johnny's chest to the back of his head, and pulled him in for a kiss. Aches disappeared as Johnny leaned into it, letting Phil take care of him. It was soft. It was delicious.

It was about damn time.

"…Okay, if that's the rewards system, I'm gonna stay out of it."

Phil broke the kiss and sighed.

"Shut the fuck up, Clint," he said.

"I don't mind this system at all," Stark said, and he winked at Phil. Johnny's hackles rose.

"Back off, Stark; he's mine," he said. He emphasised the point by hooking his ankles around the back of Phil's knees.

"They're ready for Mr. Storm," the nurse said. Pity; Johnny was getting all fired up – no pun intended – and would've been happy to take Stark on. Defend Phil's honour, and all that jazz.

"Come along," Phil said, and he glared at Stark. That made Johnny feel a bit better. "I'd offer to carry you, but I'm sure you can walk that distance unassisted."

"Wouldn't be so sure," Johnny grumbled, aware that he was still fighting arousal at Phil's words, actions, presence, general Phil-ness.

"There's a wheelchair. Stop complaining."

"You'll be coming back soon, right?" Rogers asked. Johnny tensed up as they stopped, and Phil half-turned towards Captain America.

"I'm going with Johnny," he said. "Director Fury is outside. He can take over babysitting you until I meet you back at the tower. Look after them, Steve."

Johnny didn't like Phil calling him 'Steve'; but Phil was beside Johnny, not the Avengers. Not Captain America. Phil was with Johnny. Johnny. Not anyone else.

"Want to go get a drink sometime?" he asked as Phil helped him sink onto the wheelchair without exacerbating the injury. "With me? Like a date? Or as friends, if that's all you want. If you want anything, that is. I…" Again, words weren't working. "I'd like to—"

Phil leaned down and kissed him again. Johnny was, once again, rendered speechless.

"I'd love to," Phil said, and he smiled. "Let's get you x-rayed, then we'll talk about it some more."

"I mean, it'd be weird not to go for coffee or something if you're gonna blow me later…"

* * *

><p><strong>This is one of those scenes I kept imagining. Would you have preferred it if this is how the story went? I must admit, I love drawing out the angst. More than that, I love having chapters in multiples of five.<strong>

**Anyway.**

**Please review!**


	14. Two Person Party

**Note: In chapter seven, JrFred (Johnny) told The(S)wordsman (Phil) that they wouldn't be able to have their original date, due to his injury. Phil suggested that he hang out with Johnny if the latter couldn't go to the party. Of course, they both ended up going to the party, and Johnny passed out from the pain of his wound, and… yeah, then other stuff happened. This explores what might have happened if he'd stayed home all along, and asked The(S)wordsman to keep him company.**

"Two Person Party"

By the time the elevator hit the ground floor – and with more of a thump than usual, Johnny could swear – he was feeling light-headed. He had barely taken one step when he had to lean against the wall.

"I'll be good," he said. "Just give me a minute."

"Johnny?" Susan asked. She touched his side… the injured one. He jerked away, suppressing a grunt of pain. What was wrong with him?

"Just some bruising," he said. "It's not a problem. Let's go."

"You should see a doctor."

"Look." He pointed at Reed. "I can see a doctor. He's right there. Now c'mon. There's a party tonight, guys, so let's go already!"

"If you can't make it, that's okay," Alicia said. Okay, right there, her being all understanding was enough to make him feel lousy. "You already made breakfast for us this morning."

"Yeah, maybe I was just up too early," Johnny lied. He brushed the moisture from his forehead. When'd he started sweating? "Look, you go on ahead. I'll follow in a minute. There're plenty of cabs."

"I can stay—" Sue began. He cut her off firmly.

"No," he said. "If I'm not going, you sure as hell are, Susie." He sighed. "I don't wanna ruin anyone's night. Not even yours, Ben." Ben glared at him. "If you're really that worried, I'll go straight back upstairs and stay there. But you'll be late if you don't go now. Just… have a nice night for me. Bring back cake."

"Okay," Susan said, and she kissed his cheek. "Call if you're lonely."

Johnny nodded, waving them off, and then went straight back upstairs. He wasn't going to be lonely. If The(S)wordsman was available, Johnny would take him up on that offer of hanging out tonight.

* * *

><p>Phil and the Avengers had been at the party less than five minutes when he decided to check his messages, to see how his friend was. Ten minutes ago, JrFred had sent a message to say that he was staying home to recuperate, and was he still up for coming over to visit? Phil responded immediately. After all, he hadn't seen Johnny yet, and… and he really shouldn't have been thinking about his ex while he was messaging another man.<p>

"Sorry to be a downer, but I'm heading off," he told Natasha. She raised her eyebrows.

"Why?" she asked.

"Emergency."

"This is your other friend, yes?"

"…Yes. He needs me, but not like other people need me. And I… I think I need him."

"You need Johnny Storm," she said. Phil paused.

"What?" he said.

"We know about the two of you."

"That… that was a long time ago. Before I ever met you."

"I know."

"So I don't see what relevance that has to this conversation."

"What's up?" Clint asked, joining them.

"Phil is leaving," Natasha said. Clint looked dismayed.

"What? Why?" he said. The other Avengers began to listen in as well.

"His new boyfriend has summoned him," she said.

"He's not my boyfriend yet," Phil argued. "And he's not well. He just wants some company, since he can't go out tonight."

"Storm isn't even here yet," Tony muttered to Steve. Phil eyed them both, frowning.

"That doesn't matter," he said. It was only a partial lie.

"But we want you to stay with us," Clint said.

"My God, you're all such children!" Phil hissed. A bit loudly. He tried to lower his voice. "You don't need me to baby-sit you tonight, and you _don't_ need to set me up with any of my exes. This isn't some Disney film where the parents get back together at the end. I have a _new_ chance, and if this is the one time I can go on a date with a pretty good guarantee that you won't be spying on me, then I'm gonna take it."

All six members of his team looked stricken. Even Natasha's lips were white, and she was avoiding his gaze. He sighed.

"Just… don't get into trouble, and don't stay out too late, okay?" he asked, smiling to try to soften the sting. They nodded, still silent, and Phil slipped out before they could turn argumentative. Then he was on his way, messaging JrFred for the address. If there was anything familiar about the street name, he ignored it in favour of obeying the road rules.

* * *

><p>Phil pulled into the nearest parking garage, and followed the number of JrFred's building until he stopped across the road from it. The Baxter Building.<p>

…He really didn't need any of these associations. Not with the Grimms' party tonight, nor with his team's sudden fascination with his past love life, and not with the building where the Fantastic Four lived. Yes, many other people lived there as well; obviously, JrFred was one of them.

JrFred: Do you want me to meet you in the lobby?

The(S)wordsman: No. You're the invalid. I'm just getting into the lift. Which floor are you?

JrFred: Top floor.

Phil stared at the message, and at the buttons in the elevator. Had they moved? And what kind of job did JrFred have that paid enough for him to live in the penthouse of the Baxter?

The(S)wordsman: The very top?

JrFred: Got a problem with heights? Because I'm away from the windows.

The(S)wordsman: No. Top floor it is.

Phil pressed the button and braced himself against the wall. There were many times he and Johnny had gotten it on in this elevator. No. _No_. He couldn't think like that.

Did JF really mean the top floor? If he didn't, and the Fantastic Four still lived there, this could be embarrassing. But… but they were out. If they still lived at the Baxter, no one would be there. Unless Johnny…

No.

It couldn't be.

With this new, terrifying thought, Phil barely managed to shake himself back to reality before the doors opened on the highest residential floor of the Baxter Building. He stepped out, noticing that nearly everything looked the same.

"Is that you, Swords?"

Johnny.

"JF?" he said, walking into the main area.

It was him. Johnny Storm, reclining on the sofa. He stared at Phil, jaw hanging open.

"Phil?" he asked. "Uh, hi. What're you… what're you doing here? I'm expecting…"

"Me, I think," Phil said, holding up his phone. "If you're Junior Fred."

Johnny winced as he struggled into a sitting position. Phil moved forward, concerned.

"You're… you're The Swordsman? Seriously?"

"Yes," Phil said. He was soon at the foot of the sofa. "I'm… hell. All this time, it's been you."

"I guess," Johnny said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was paler than usual, and moved gingerly. "God, this is like a romantic comedy, isn't it?"

"I'm not laughing."

"Neither am I."

They both fell quiet for a couple of minutes, processing it. Then Phil remembered something.

"You're injured," he said. "From the other day? When we were fighting Doom?"

Johnny nodded, shifting in place again. He flinched. "Inside the machine. A bar hit me in the side."

"That explains you dismissing it as a disagreement with a pole," Phil said dryly. "In your message to me?" He sank to his knees on the floor beside Johnny. His heart pounded as he look up into his ex-lover's eyes. "You know, if I wasn't off my game, I probably would've seen who you were. I was falling for JF because he was my type: you. Then the timing of the injury was right. Then you weren't there tonight. And then the _address_… How did I not know? I'm ashamed of myself."

"You were falling for me?" Johnny asked softly. Phil considered him, studying his face.

"For JF," he said, testing the waters. Johnny's face fell, and he looked away. "Not for you." Johnny nodded, still silent; but it seemed that he was drawing into himself, like an internal wound was getting deeper. "I… God, I think I fell for you a long time ago, Johnny."

His head snapped up, and he met Phil's gaze. "You…?"

Phil took a moment to be sure of his feelings. He knew that his gut was right. "Always."

Johnny insinuated his hand behind Phil's neck, and brought him close. Phil nuzzled his cheek first, breathing in that soft warmth so rare in the Human Torch, and whatever cologne Johnny had donned for the party. Then he kissed Johnny's cheek, barely aware of the lips brushing his own jaw line. He held Johnny's shoulders, keeping him in place, and then pulled back enough to press their mouths together. Johnny's other hand stroked Phil's back, sneaked under his jacket, and heat flared beneath his palm. Phil melted, smiling into the kiss, and gladly let Johnny deepen it. Until, that is, Johnny twisted to get closer, and nearly bit Phil's tongue.

"Damn it, Johnny," Phil said, and he tried to unbutton Johnny's shirt.

"I'm sorry, Phil…"

"We shouldn't have started this," he said, and he finally saw the bruise. "We have to get to a hospital. I'll call an ambulance."

"Did you bring a car?"

"Yes, and it's in a lot nearby. I'm really not that concerned about it, Johnny."

"If… if you really don't want to do this…"

"What?" Phil looked up, and Johnny avoided eye contact. "If I don't…? You mean… you mean this? Us?" Johnny nodded. "I didn't mean that. I meant that I should've taken you to hospital straight away, not let you distract me like this. I do want to kiss you, Johnny. I want to do everything with you, all the good stuff, just like we used to. On a more permanent basis, of course." He finished buttoning the shirt and stood up. "I want you in one piece, though. I'll call an ambulance—"

"If I turn up the heat, I won't be able to feel the pain. We can take your car."

Phil rolled his eyes. "I reserve the right to carry you bridal-style if you can't make it there."

"Deal."

* * *

><p><strong>Don't know how to go on from there without getting more repetitiveboring.**

**Please review!**


	15. Pain

**Clarification: As with the previous chapter, the few italicised paragraphs at the beginning come from 'The Agent and the Human Torch'. In this case, chapter eight, at the Grimms' anniversary party.**

"Pain"

"_You're not crazy," Johnny said. It was like the last six years never happened as he automatically touched Phil's hand, the one not holding his drink. "Though I guess dating me is enough to make anyone certifiable."_

_Phil chuckled again, meeting Johnny's eyes. The laughter died, and so did Johnny's smile as he began to lean in._

_That was when the pain in his side made itself known, and he pulled back with a quiet hiss. He screwed his eyes shut when he saw Phil's shocked and stricken face._

"Johnny?"

"I'm sorry," Johnny said. "I have to go."

"Wait." Phil grabbed his arm, and Johnny had to stop. "You're in pain. What's wrong?"

"I'm not in—"

"Oh, really? Because you sounded like it, and you look like it. You're so pale it's hard to believe you're not a vampire."

"Vampires aren't real," Johnny said.

"Let's not go into that, and don't change the subject."

"Look, Phil, I…" But the room tilted. Johnny had to clutch Phil's shoulder. "If I just sit down—"

"Dr. Banner's coming," Phil said. He let go of Johnny's elbow in favour of slipping an arm around his waist. Johnny gasped, and held on tighter. Another man appeared at his side.

"What happened?" Bruce Banner asked. Johnny closed his eyes, but that didn't make the dizziness or pain go away.

"I don't know," Phil said. "One minute we were talking, next thing I know he's making sounds like he's in pain. Look at him flinching!"

"Stop. Touching. My. Side," Johnny managed. "Hurts."

"Let's get him outside," Banner said. Phil moved his hand away, but he let Johnny lean on him. At least they stuck to the shadows. Much as he didn't get on with the guy, Johnny didn't want to ruin The Thing's evening.

His head cleared a little when they left the stuffy atmosphere of the ballroom. He heard talking, but didn't understand the words. He just basked in Phil's coolness, and rested his head on the agent's shoulder. His agent.

"My agent," he mumbled. Phil sighed.

"Bruce wants to get you to the nearest hospital. Do you want me to tell Susan that we're leaving?"

"Don't tell her why," Johnny said. He knew his voice was slurring, and that Phil was having to hold him up. "Say that… say that we're back together. Going to your place or something. Don't tell her… `bout Doom's robot hitting me."

"Doom's…? Johnny, I'm not lying to your sister. Bruce, you go with him to the hospital. I'll try to convince her to stay here. I know he's safe in your hands."

"Come on," Banner said. "Can you walk, Mr. Storm?"

"Dunno."

"I'll carry him," Phil said. Johnny's world tilted again. This time, it was because Phil gently rocked him back, and swept him up princess-style so carefully that there was no pain. Or at least it didn't get worse. Hell, Johnny was feeling better already, being back in Phil's arms.

"Love you," Johnny said, staring up in the general direction of Phil's eyes. Then he had to shut his own, because he was kind of tired.

"Once he's on the stretcher, I'll go tell Susan, and then I'll meet you at the hospital. Text me the details when you get the…"

* * *

><p>Phil refused, on principle, to lie to Susan Richards. Not when it came to Johnny's health. He'd only ever lied about Johnny's whereabouts (which were usually in Phil's bed, or in Phil himself), and the one time he accidentally answered Johnny's phone, the game was up. So it was pointless.<p>

"Johnny's sick?" Susan said, eyes wide.

"I don't think so. From what he said, something happened when he was inside Doom's machine the other day. More likely he's injured. I'll let you know when I know more—"

"I'm coming with you," she said, and she gathered up the skirts of her dress.

"No," he said. "Johnny asked me to tell you to stay here. He didn't want to ruin your evening, or Alicia and Ben's. Stay for them, if not for yourself. After the party, you can get together a bag for Johnny, in case it's an overnight stay, and then bring that to the hospital. But in the meantime, even if you can't enjoy the evening that much, at least try. It's what he wants, Sue. Isn't that important to you?"

She looked uncertain, and then glanced over at Ben and Alicia. "All right. But you let me know _everything_, Phillip Coulson. You hear me?"

"Loud and clear. Please give my excuses to the Grimms."

Susan nodded stiffly. Phil turned around sharply.

"Phil?"

He looked back. "Yes?"

"Are you and Johnny… Is there something going on?"

I almost kissed him, he thought. "I don't know. He wanted me to tell you that we were hooking up, and that's why we were leaving. I opted to tell you the truth."

"Thanks for that," she said. "But when you left… you hurt him."

"I didn't know I would." He smiled softly. "He said he loves me. When I picked him up to take him outside, he said that he loves me."

Susan looked like she wanted to say more. But then she just waved him away. This time, Phil made it outside and slipped into his car.

Then he ignored all speed limits to get to the hospital.

* * *

><p>"…arkable that all it took was Phil touching Johnny to stop him from melting all the surgical tools. We were lucky to have him there."<p>

Johnny felt two hands holding his, one on either side, and a vaguely familiar voice from the end of the bed.

"Bruised ribs, which have caused internal bleeding. A couple were nearly cracked. They would have ended up broken with barely any jostling."

"Oh my God, Johnny." That was Susie, on his right. "How long will he be here, Dr. Banner?" (So that's who was at the end.)

"He'll need to take it easy, but as long as he's provided with sufficient medical care, he could be moved pretty soon. I'm willing to act as his attending physician while he recovers."

"Well, you operated on him. Thanks for looking after him."

"Phil's been a big help."

Phil? Phil had been here? Phil… Phil _was_ here. Johnny recognised the hand on his left.

"Phil," he croaked, or tried to. Whatever sound he made, it spurred the others into action. A cup of water was pressed against his lips, and he took a few sips before it was taken away. Sue kissed his forehead and called him an idiot, Banner agreed with her, and Phil… Phil just kept holding his hand. But when Johnny's eyes were fully open, and he was staring at his ex-boyfriend-or-whatever, Phil leaned forward.

"Love you, too," he said.

If Johnny's heart monitor beeped a bit faster, no one said anything about it.

* * *

><p>"Isn't this kind of medieval?" Johnny said, staring at the sword running down the centre of the bed. "I mean, it's a bit late to protect my virtue. You took care of the male half of that nine years ago."<p>

Phil rolled his eyes. "It's not a real sword."

"It's a foam sword."

"It'll still poke into me if I roll over towards you. I wouldn't have to do this if you'd agree to me sleeping on a camp bed, or in a different room."

Johnny stared down at his lap, his hands crossed in a very un-Johnny-like pose. "Want you close."

"Bruce is the one who should be close."

"I get the camp bed," Bruce said from the doorway. Phil looked up, and raised an eyebrow.

"Need help setting it up?" he asked.

"I've done this before, Phil. I can handle it. Believe me, if we're both going to be in the same room, I'd rather you share with Johnny. Unless you really want to swap?" Phil unconsciously moved closer to Johnny. "I thought not."

"My agent," Johnny muttered, and he entwined his fingers with Phil's. "You… you don't have to stay, if you don't want to. I mean, no one's forcing you to—"

"In case you've forgotten, I asked to sleep with you. I mean, stay with you. Obviously, we'll be sleeping together. Not in the Biblical sense. Unless you want to. Which is fine, by the way. Just not yet. I mean, it'd be fine anytime, but you're recovering, and I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have." Phil hated getting flustered, even though Johnny once said that his babbling was adorable. Johnny frowned, and tilted his head.

"What are you talking about?" he said.

"Those… those scars on your wrists. Would I be right in thinking they're about… six years old?"

"Oh." Johnny looked down again. "Those. Actually, they're five years old."

"…Oh. Good. Not that cutting your wrists is good; God, no. But if it was because of—"

"It was a year after our break-up. To the day."

There was silence. Phil's heart was breaking all over again, just like it had six years ago.

Bruce cleared his throat. "I'll go get some sheets." Then he hurried from the room. His departure didn't make it any easier to breathe.

"I nearly killed you," Phil said. "Johnny, I—"

"No. It wasn't your fault. Whatever reason you had for breaking up with me, it would've been valid. This is you, after all. And I should've known better than to get drunk while I was depressed."

"It was my fa—"

"It wasn't!" Johnny shook his head, and held out his arms. He winced, and Phil climbed onto the bed so that Johnny could relax. "I can't let you keep thinking that if we're getting back together. I'm telling you this now so we can clear the air, and then get on with our lives. Together."

Phil stared at him. Then he moved the foam sword out of the way, made Johnny lie back, and curled up beside him. He supported his head with one arm, and rested his other hand on Johnny's chest.

"You're a shining star," he whispered. "And I won't leave again."

Before Phil fell asleep, he noticed Bruce appear at the door. The doctor smiled, entered the room, and closed the door. It was nearly bedtime, and Johnny was already snoring softly. Phil watched as the doctor quickly made his bed, and then lay down, facing them.

"You're cute together," he said. "Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Not enough for me to believe it," Phil said, and then he yawned. "Night, Bruce."

"Good night, Phil."

* * *

><p><strong>Funnily enough, writing this while I'm in bed. It's late, I'm tired, and I need sleep. At least I won't be posting at this time of night.<strong>

**Please review!**


	16. Kiss Me

**Again: as with previous chapters, this begins with an excerpt; in this case, from chapter nine.**

"Kiss Me"

_Phil loved him?_

_Johnny knew, in that very second, that he loved Phil, too. He had to. It was the only explanation for the way he felt around Phil; secure, wanted, stable (but off-centre). It was the only explanation for the pain he felt after the break-up, which hurt him so much that he nearly killed himself, not just by being reckless but by actually planning (and trying) to commit suicide. Why he dreamed about him._

_Why he never got over him, even though he'd found (S)words._

_He had to say it. He had to say those words. He couldn't not say anything._

"Kiss me," Johnny said.

All right. It wasn't 'I love you', but it could've been worse. He could have mentioned his online possible-relationship, and that would've ruined everything. No. This was a hell of a lot better. Phil's face lit up, and he nearly stumbled down the stairs as he walked towards Johnny. Considering what he'd just heard, Johnny was fairly confident that he wasn't about to be decked.

"I'll go make that call," Banner said, and he cleared his throat as he wandered off. Johnny didn't notice anything else; his entire focus was on Phil, who was almost at the coffee table.

"Can you… can you please say that again?" he asked softly.

"You didn't hear me the first time?"

"I'm not sure whether I was just hearing what I wanted to hear. I need you to… clarify."

Johnny inhaled, and then let it out slowly. "Kiss. Me."

Phil stepped closer, right to Johnny's side.

"Again," he said.

"Kiss me."

Phil dropped to his knees beside Johnny, and cupped his cheek.

"I missed you so much," he whispered. The look on his face was so adoring that Johnny could hardly breathe.

"Kiss me."

Then lips were on his, and Johnny whimpered as Phil pressed harder. He parted his lips, letting Phil's tongue slide against his, and discovered that not breathing in first was a good way to make someone light-headed too quickly. Johnny pushed Phil back to catch his breath. Phil only had enough time to look hurt before Johnny was pulling him back by his tie, and taking over. He sensed Phil's mouth curve into a smile. Johnny felt like he could fly without having to turn on the flames.

Not that he wasn't already feeling hot. But that was all Phil.

They could've been kissing for hours, and it would've been too soon before Phil pulled back on his own. Then he began to kiss Johnny's neck, and Johnny couldn't find it in himself to complain about that. On the contrary, he moaned quietly.

"Should we take this elsewhere?" Phil said, nuzzling Johnny's ear. "Your family's still around."

"B-Banner's probably in there," Johnny stuttered. Phil froze. "He's got the camp bed."

"Oh. Good," Phil said. "I was jealous for a minute there."

"Of… of Banner?"

"In your bedroom." Phil sat back, and studied Johnny's face. "The thought of anyone else in there…" He growled. "I hate it. I know I don't have the right to—"

"Hey." Johnny took Phil by the chin. "No one else has been in there since you. Only me." He looked down, and then back up into Phil's warm eyes. "No one since you, Phil. `Cause I'm yours."

Phil kissed him again, then brushed noses. "I'm yours, too, Johnny. Always."

"I'm done." It was Banner, leaving Johnny's room. "You're still recovering, Johnny, which means no strenuous exercise. From what I hear, you're both terrible patients. Don't make me have to check on you every five minutes."

"I'll look after him, Bruce," Phil said, and he stood up. Then, with a smooth, swift movement, he gathered Johnny into his arms and carried him into his – their – bedroom.

* * *

><p>Later, much later, Phil was on his mobile and Johnny was lounging on the bed with his StarkPad, which Phil gave him as a joke gift once and Johnny had kept. Phil discovered that JrFred was online, and reluctantly began a conversation with him.<p>

The(S)wordsman: Hey.

JrFred: Hi, (S)words.

The(S)wordsman: I have to tell you something.

JrFred: So do I.

The(S)wordsman: You first.

JrFred: No, you can go.

The(S)wordsman: JF.

He heard Johnny sigh, and smiled. It was good to be close to him again. All right, so Phil was in an armchair beside the bed, since he didn't want to make Johnny's injury worse. But they were in the same room, which was more than he deserved.

JrFred: Okay. I really do like you, and I hope we can be friends. But I still have feelings for my ex, and we've… we've kind of gotten back together.

Phil stiffened, and then relaxed completely

"Thank God," he muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, Johnny."

JrFred: (S)words? I'm sorry. I still care about you, but he's… he's just… I can't even describe it. If you met him, you'd understand.

The(S)wordsman: No, I completely understand.

JrFred: I feel terrible about this.

The(S)wordsman: Don't. Besides, I'm getting back together with my ex, so it all works out.

JrFred: You don't have to do this. I feel awful already. I don't want you to lie to make me feel better.

The(S)wordsman: I'm not lying, JF. It's really all right. That's what I was going to tell you.

He glanced up when Johnny sighed again, and noticed how distressed his boyfriend looked.

"Are you all right, Johnny?"

Johnny looked up, startled, and stared at Phil. Then he nodded, and returned his attention to the computer screen. Making a note to investigate this after he finished reassuring JrFred, Phil followed his example.

JrFred: (S)words, how can I know this is true?

The(S)wordsman: You know you can trust me. Haven't you learnt anything since we began this?

He hit 'enter'; and while he waited for a reply, he glanced at Johnny again. Johnny was running his hands through his hair, something Phil was itching to do himself, and frowning deeply. He hesitated, and then typed something on his StarkPad. He tapped what was probably an 'enter' key as well, and then stopped.

That's when Phil noticed that he'd received a message, and began to wonder.

JrFred: Tell me about this guy.

The(S)wordsman: He's my soulmate, if I can use that term. He's got eyes that smile even when he's trying to be serious. He's light-hearted, daring, handsome as sin, and hides the best parts of himself like he's trying to shield himself from hurt.

Johnny smiled sadly, and began to type again.

JrFred: I'm almost jealous. He sounds like quite a guy. He'd have to be, to catch your attention.

The(S)wordsman: Tell me about your man.

JrFred: Like I said, he's hard to describe. He's a complete badass, in whatever he's doing. Sometimes he seems younger than me, like when he's being a fanboy. He can be so commanding, and he's strong, even though you wouldn't think that to look at him. Not at first. The way his eyes crinkle when he's smiling… he smiles with his eyes, too. Yeah, we can use the word soulmate. That's just how I feel.

The(S)wordsman: Now I'm nearly jealous.

Phil paused, and then continued.

The(S)wordsman: Does he have any tattoos? You sound like a tattoo kind of guy.

Johnny laughed softly, but he still looked wary and disbelieving.

JrFred: Just one.

The(S)wordsman: I knew it! Where? What's it look like?

JrFred: That's personal.

The(S)wordsman: It's in a place only a lover can see it?

JrFred: …If you must know, it's on his lower back.

Phil inhaled through his teeth, and shook his head when Johnny looked at him quizzically.

The(S)wordsman: I bet I can guess what it's of.

JrFred: It's not my name.

The(S)wordsman: Is it Captain America's shield?

This time, Johnny gasped a second after Phil sent the message. Their eyes met, Johnny gaping.

"I'm waiting for a reply," Phil murmured. Johnny shook his head, then looked down again.

JrFred: His… his name is Phil. Yeah. That's the tattoo.

The(S)wordsman: I'm guessing your name is Johnny Storm?

Johnny made a strangled sound and dropped his StarkPad onto the covers beside him. Phil placed his phone aside and climbed onto the bed. Johnny yanked him close and nearly devoured Phil's mouth.

"You're Swords," he said. "All this time, you've been Swords."

"Of course you were JF," Phil said, and he kissed Johnny's nose. "You couldn't be anyone else. I should've known. Should've had Stark trace the messages. I wanted to give you privacy, but—"

"We could've avoided all this if we just got together at that party," Johnny said, and he rubbed his nose over the pulse point on Phil's neck.

"I don't know," Phil said. "I don't think our time's been entirely wasted, do you?" He hummed. "Your soulmate, huh?"

Johnny blushed. "Shut up. You used that first."

"Well, I think there's only one thing to be done."

"About?"

"About this." He waved to Johnny's StarkPad, where he could see their written conversation. "We should delete both our accounts. We don't need to hide behind pseudonyms anymore."

"But I can still make jokes about your sword, right?" Johnny asked, sneaking his hand down Phil's body. Phil caught his wrist.

"Not until Bruce clears you for that," he said.

Johnny pouted.

* * *

><p><strong>And so their online romance came to an end. It's all right. They can sext now. I mean, text. Text. *Shifty-eyed*<strong>


	17. Do You Prefer

"Do You Prefer"

_He had to say it. He had to say those words. He couldn't not say anything._

"…_Johnny? I supposed you heard what I—"_

"_I met someone," he blurted out. "I… He's great. And…"_

_Oh God, shut up, Johnny! he told himself. Why are you…? Don't screw this up!_

_But he had. He could tell. Phil's face had fallen as Johnny spoke, eyes shuttering, the obvious hurt destroying what could've been._

"Oh," Phil said, and he began to turn away. "I'm sorry. I'll just lea—"

"I don't understand!" Johnny said. "I never understood why you broke up with me." The memory of that day made him angry. "What made you think I wouldn't move on? It's been six years, Phil."

"I know that. I apologise for not giving you an explanation at the time."

Johnny nodded, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists. "Yeah. But three years kind of made me want more, you know?" Phil looked around at him, eyes wide. "So why shouldn't I try to find that?" He should have stopped himself, instead of letting his hurt take over. Words he didn't mean – not exactly – kept coming. "I've finally found someone who… who might want forever with me, and I'm not gonna let that go, just because you've returned and said—"

"'I love you'," Phil said. "I understand."

"He…" Still words poured out. "He reminds me of you."

"Well, that makes me feel a lot better."

"Don't!" Johnny snapped. "You don't get to be sarcastic, Phil."

"I'm not. I hope you'll be very happy."

"I didn't know about any guy," Susan said. Johnny had forgotten she was there. Judging by the way he jumped, so had Phil. "Where did you meet him?"

Johnny cleared his throat, embarrassed that his family had witnessed this entire conversation. "On, uh… online."

"The _internet_? You're seeing someone you met on the internet?"

"Well, we've only messaged each other. I don't actually know what he looks like—"

"You really don't have any sense of self-preservation, do you, Johnny? At least you know what you're getting into with trick-riding."

Phil broke in. "If it makes you feel any better, Susan, I could use SHIELD's resources to run a full background check on him."

"Hey, the site's secure," Johnny said, pointing at him. "I know how to do my own checks."

"If you want to maintain some level of privacy, a third party could reveal pertinent information, and you can find out the rest yourself through… dates." He flinched, just enough for Johnny to catch it. "Face-to-face dates."

"Who'd be reckless enough to start a relationship over the internet?" Susan asked, and she frowned at Johnny.

"Well… I have," Phil said, and Susan looked almost scandalised. "Sort of. There's something there, but Johnny…" He sighed, and Johnny's heart constricted. "It would have been unfair, anyway. I'd better go now. Goodbye… Mr. Storm."

"I'll see you out," Susan said.

"Is your guy nice?" Johnny asked, just as Phil reached the steps. He paused, and turned back.

"He is," he said. "Kind of reminds me of you. Your sense of humour. The serious side you won't let anyone see. Just… must be why I like him so much. Maybe I'll even love him one day."

No, no, no, please don't, Johnny thought. He tried to make himself say it, but chickened out at the last minute.

"Have you met him yet?" If he hadn't, maybe there was still a chance?

Phil shook his head. "But there's nothing holding me back now. He can't make me forget, but he can be a new memory. Maybe every new memory, if I'm lucky. Since I can't have that with y…" His breathing was uneven, and his hand almost drifted up to the left side of his chest. Was something wrong with his heart? "I have to go."

Sue nodded, and she touched Phil's lower back, leading him up the stairs. "So what's his name?"

"J-R-Fred. I call him J-F…"

What?

"Phil?" Johnny said. He saw Phil's shoulders slump. This time, his ex didn't turn around.

"What is it?" he asked, sounding tired.

There was no way in heaven or hell Johnny was going to screw this up.

"Do you… do you prefer the sword, or the word?" Finally, he said the right thing!

If it wasn't for the clock ticking at a regular pace, Johnny could've sworn everything had gone slow-mo. Phil twisted around on one heel, but not sharply. It was like he was moving in water. Johnny knew that if he was in the same position, he wouldn't have wanted to move too swiftly, either, in case he woke up. But, although it took something like an hour, Phil was soon facing him, their gazes connected even at that distance.

"You're…?"

"Junior Fred," Johnny said. "Or, like you said, J-F. Are you really…?" He bit his bottom lip, then let it go after a few beats. "Are you Swords? The Swordsman? Or is it Wordsman? Should I be saying the brackets out loud—"

"Yes," Phil said quickly, and he walked back towards the sofa. "I'm The Swordsman. You're really my…? God, I should've known." He dropped to the floor beside Johnny, keeping eye contact as he lifted Johnny's hands.

"How could you've known?" Johnny asked. Was this really real?

"I should have felt it, right here," Phil said, and he rested one of Johnny's hands on his chest. "Maybe some part of me was so sure it was you that I just couldn't let go. Then I heard about your injury, and I…" He inhaled shakily. "Everything seemed clearer. I finally knew how I'd always felt." His eyelashes were getting damp. "Then you said you'd met someone else, and it all came crashing down—"

"But it's _you_," Johnny said. He couldn't believe it. "I tried to get over you with someone who turned out to be… you. There's a whole romantic comedy there, you know."

Phil laughed softly, and then kissed Johnny's knuckles. Johnny didn't move, just in case he was the one dreaming, and woke up to find it was all a lie. At some point, the others had left them alone, and Banner stayed wherever he was. It wasn't until Phil was resting his head on Johnny's lap that something seemed to shock the man, and he sat up abruptly.

"Oh God, Johnny."

"What's the problem?"

"I remember… the night before we broke up—"

"You broke up with me."

Phil ignored that. "I said I loved you, didn't I? I thought I'd dreamed that. You never said anything, so…"

Johnny shrugged. "You didn't give me a chance. You fell asleep, got up before I did, like always, and before I could even say good morning you dumped me."

"You agreed to a permanent split—"

"I was tired! I couldn't think straight, Phil. I was nervous about what you'd said, and when you said we should have a break, I agreed. I thought I needed time to think about it. I didn't know what I was agreeing to until you'd gone. I didn't feel you kiss me." He trembled. "It was our last kiss, and I didn't have any memory of it."

Then lips were on his, and Johnny sank into it. If it wasn't for this goddamned injury, he'd jump Phil. Show him what he'd been missing for six years. Instead, he settled for gentle, and ended up preferring it. Gentle was good. Gentle was… was loving. And that's something he still hadn't said.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Johnny," Phil whispered.

"I love you, Phil. It'll be all right."

Phil's eyes shone. But then they dimmed a little bit.

"I never made you really happy, did I?" he said.

"You did, Phil."

"Before, I almost said I hoped that your new boyfriend could do what I never did, and make sure you never got hurt."

"But… but you're my new boyfriend. And ex-boyfriend. You're both."

Phil swallowed. "I am?"

"And please," Johnny said, winding his arms around Phil's neck, "let it be more than that?"

He didn't know whether Phil got what he meant entirely. But the agent nodded nonetheless.

"Anything you want," he said.

"Then that'd be you."

* * *

><p><strong>Didn't exactly stick to my original notes for this scene. Meh.<strong>

**Hope you're enjoying these! Not long to go.**

**You know, it's taken me less than an hour to write this chapter. Go, team!**


	18. Last Thoughts and First Words

"Last Thoughts and First Words"

Phil wanted to tell Nick… wanted him to tell Johnny… that Phil… loved him. But Johnny wouldn't care… world needed saving…

So he gave his life… to form… the A—

* * *

><p>Fury stared across the desk at the Avengers.<p>

"We didn't leave him alone," Steve said. "Agent Hill said she would stay with Agent Coulson until we got back. But we thought you should know."

"Know what?" Fury asked.

"That Phil was asking for someone," Clint said.

"It has to be the cellist," Tony said.

"I told you that the cellist was a target for a mission! Sir, you tell him. He won't listen to me."

"Barton, I'm not your goddamned father," Fury said. "What the hell is Stark talking about?"

"Agent Coulson was asking for someone named Jenny," Steve explained.

"Tony thought that it had to be the cellist he was dating," Bruce said. "But Clint's told us that that can't be the case."

"I was on assignment, so I don't know the details of Phil's last – latest – case," Natasha said, shrugging elegantly. "If Clint says that it's true, then it's true."

"The cellist is male, and he was Coulson's target," Fury said. "Barton's right."

"But Pepper said—"

"Miss Potts believed what she had to believe, Stark. There might've been surveillance on Coulson. If that's all, get out of my office."

"Yet it leaves the question of his paramour," Thor said. "He did indeed speak this lady's name upon waking."

Fury frowned. "Phil doesn't know anyone named Jenny…" He trailed off, then stood up and paced to the window. "He definitely said 'Jenny'?"

"That has to be it," Steve said. "That's what it sounded like."

"Well, more like 'Juh' and 'nee'," Clint said. "He was kind of mumbling. You know, waking up from a coma, that kinda thing. The stuff Hollywood is made of."

Fury stared out the window, and allowed himself a small, quick smile. But he'd smoothed out his expression by the time he turned back to face Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

"I think I know who he's talking about." He eyed Steve. "Who was he looking at when he woke up?"

"I don't think he was looking at anyone in particular," Steve said. "I was the closest, and he tried to grab my jacket. But I was just in his line of sight. Then he sort of settled down when he heard the others talking."

"Hmm. I'm gonna make a call. Now get going."

"Sir, who do you think it is?" Natasha asked.

"You'll know in a couple of hours, Romanov." He smiled toothily. "You wouldn't want me to spoil the surprise, would you?"

* * *

><p>Johnny hung up his mobile, speechless with shock. He'd managed to stutter out a couple of words of thanks, but that was it.<p>

"Who was it?" Sue called, and she stuck her head into Johnny's room. "Hey, are you okay? You've gone pale."

"_Look at all this," Phil whispered, stroking Johnny's chest as they soaped up in the shower. "I never understood describing people's skin as alabaster. It seemed ridiculous. But now I get it." He licked a stripe along Johnny's collarbone. "Gorgeous."_

"_I'd tan more, but that seems redundant when you're the Human Torch."_

"_Don't you dare," Phil said. "And mar perfection?"_

"_Wow, you acknowledged that I'm perfect."_

_Phil snorted…_

"Johnny?"

The memory and his sister's words snapped him into action. He leapt for his trainers, grabbing a jacket with his free hand, and tried to pull everything on at once. Frustrated with his lack of progress, he threw the jacket onto the bed and pulled the shoes on over his threadbare socks. They'd been a present from Phil— No. He couldn't think about that.

"You're going out?" Sue asked.

"Obviously," Johnny said, finally yanking on his jacket.

"I thought you'd want to be waiting for Director Fury's call—"

"Just got it," he said, and he stuffed his wallet and keys into his pockets. "Phil's awake. He… he was asking for me." The blood rose to his cheeks, and Johnny ducked his head, suddenly, inexplicably bashful. Susan beamed, and threw her arms around his shoulders.

"I'm so happy for you. Send our love… or." Her smiled faded, and she frowned. "Don't let him break your heart again. I knew we should've given him the shovel talk, but Reed said we didn't have to, because you can look after yourself. If anything, someone would have to give _you_ the talk."

"Yeah, well." Some of Johnny's enthusiasm died. But Phil had asked for him. He'd nearly died, and his first words had been Johnny's name, according to Fury. He wasn't going to miss this chance. Even if it was just to wish Phil a speedy recovery, he wanted to see his ex in person.

Susan sighed, and kissed him on the cheek. "Go on, and good luck."

"Thanks," he said, and he ran all the way to the elevator.

* * *

><p>As Johnny walked along the corridor, he could hear loud voices talking, and then laughing. His heart pounded as he reached the room, and poked his head around the door to have a look.<p>

Phil was surrounded by the Avengers. Some were on the outskirts; but all six were there. Captain America was next to the bed, and whatever he said made Phil laugh weakly. He probably shouldn't have been laughing at all. Surely all this activity couldn't be good for him, if he'd only just woken up this morning?

But Phil looked happy. Exhausted, but happy. He had his shiny new superhero team, and he'd left the Fantastic Four behind long ago. He'd left Johnny behind long ago. Someone must have misheard. Phil couldn't have said his name.

It was impossible to tear his gaze from the scene. It wasn't until Phil's eyes met his that Johnny's breath caught in his throat, and he turned away. There wasn't any reason to stay here, when Phil was so happy without—

"Johnny?" He glanced back at the hoarsely-spoken name. "Johnny Storm? Is that…?"

He was caught now. Johnny moved into the room, just over the threshold, and nodded. Everything else was silent.

Then Phil raised his right hand. There was an IV connected to it, and he couldn't move it far; but his palm was up, and he murmured 'Johnny' again. And his smile was wider than any Johnny had ever seen. He looked so joyful, like his life was finally complete.

That did it. One moment Johnny was at the door; the next, he was at the bed, with no idea how he'd moved so quickly. He grabbed Phil's hand and squeezed his fingers. He leaned over Phil, resting his hip on the bed, and pressed their foreheads together.

"Oh God, Phil," he whispered. He let his tears fall and stain Phil's cheeks. "Don't you ever do that to me again. You hear me?"

"Hi, Johnny." He felt a hand on the back of his head, and Johnny inhaled shakily.

"H-hi," he said.

"Wait. Johnny Storm? Johnny…? Not 'Jenny'. He said 'Johnny'."

Johnny would have scowled at Stark if he could move. But he couldn't. He had to stay where he was, in case he woke up and found this was all a dream.

"We should… probably leave them alone." That was Captain Rogers. Johnny waited for Phil to protest.

"Thanks," Phil said, and his thumb stroked the nape of Johnny's neck. "Mmm. Kiss me, Johnny."

Blushing again, Johnny obliged, brushing his lips over Phil's mouth. "Much easier without that breathing tube in the way," he said.

"Hang on." That was another of the Avengers. Probably the Hulk or the archer. "A breathing tube? How did you know he had one of those?"

When Phil cocked his head, Johnny had to move back. Phil's hand moved with him.

"The day that Manhattan was hit, I visited," Johnny said. "Director Fury told me that Phil was in a coma, so I brought flowers."

"Noticed the tube?" Phil said. His voice was still raspy.

"I… I kissed the corner of your mouth." Johnny looked away, ashamed. Phil shouldn't have had to know that Johnny took advantage of his unconsciousness to steal a kiss. He fully expected Phil's hand to drop from the back of his neck; he just didn't expect it to hurt so much, and stood. "I'm sorry."

Before he could back off, Phil's free hand latched onto his wrist. Johnny met his eyes, hardly daring to move.

"Came," Phil said. "Don't even remember asking. But you came anyway."

"Only because Fury told me you were saying my name," Johnny said. He was aware that he was still crying. "That's all." Phil's grip loosened, and the look on his face cut Johnny deeply. "And because I love you. That's… why I'm sorry, Phil. I shouldn't have kissed you without your permission. I don't know why I did it, except that I love you." He shook his head. "I really do."

Within two seconds, Phil was gripping his hand.

"Love you, too, Johnny," he said. "Kiss me again?"

His eyes were so wide and earnest and hopeful that Johnny couldn't resist. He perched on the edge of Phil's bed and leaned down to press their lips together. He licked Phil's dry lips, not daring to nip them in case he broke the skin. He moved his mouth to Phil's neck, kissing it lightly, and his heart sped up with the small, happy sigh that Phil let out.

"You know something, Johnny?" he said.

"I know lots of things. What thing in particular am I supposed to know?"

Phil giggled. Yep. On the good drugs. But Johnny was pretty sure that they were acting like a truth drug, so he wasn't going to question it.

"Gay marriage is legal now," Phil said. "It's legal, Johnny."

He froze for a second, and then raised his head. Phil was smiling uncontrollably now, which was nice to see, if a little unnerving. Johnny realised that no one had actually left the room, and he really didn't want to do this with an audience. Still.

"I know," he said. "Great, isn't it?"

"Yeah…"

"When I first heard about it… my first thought was you." He cupped Phil's head, stroking his hair. "Almost called you up, before I realised there was no point."

"Thought about you, too." Phil nuzzled the pulse in Johnny's wrist, too out of it to notice the scars, before looking up at him through his eyelashes. "You and me."

"I beat you, though. I thought about it the day Alicia and Ben got hitched."

Phil's eyebrows climbed slowly. "About me? That day?"

"Four years ago."

"Oh." Phil nodded, and then smiled again. "We can get married now. If you want."

Johnny's stomach swooped, and he kissed Phil's nose. "When you've got a clear head."

* * *

><p>There was no one Johnny could really ask for Phil's hand, so he called Fury. This was after the Avengers had left Johnny with Phil, who was now sleeping. Then Johnny called Susan for a favour.<p>

By morning, Phil was awake. Johnny had managed to get some sleep – leaving him with aches in his neck and back – so he was wakeful enough to help Phil drink some water and take his meds. After a proper good morning, Johnny broke the kiss long enough to gaze into Phil's eyes, and noticed that he seemed to be worried about something.

"Johnny, I think I said some things last night," he said. "You don't have to take any notice of them. I… I…"

His voice faded as Johnny dropped to one knee by the hospital bed, and pulled out the ring box.

"Just shut up for a minute," he said. "Susie went to the trouble of finding Gram's ring and bringing it here, and I asked Fury for permission. That's scary as hell, so I hope you appreciate this." He opened the box and held it out. Phil's gaze flicked from the ring to Johnny and back again.

"Johnny…"

"Give me a minute here. I've never done this before, but I've imagined it. Of course, I was picturing it in a restaurant, or in bed, or somewhere that wasn't a hospital with you post-surgery and me… post-freak out over the thought of losing you." He shifted where he knelt. "I meant what I said when you woke up. You can't do that to me again. I can't lose you. `Cause if you die before me, I know it won't be long before my heart gives up, too. Since that's going to happen whether we're together or not – I think five years is enough for me to work that out – I'd rather be with you. Forever." He cleared his throat, drawing Phil's stare back to him. Again, unnerving. "This isn't exactly the romantic proposal I had in mind, and I'm kind of winging it here. But… well, will you marry me, Phil?"

There was silence for a minute. Then Phil broke into a coughing fit, and Johnny leapt up to help him to more water. He tried not to think the worst as he rubbed Phil's back, waiting for the coughs to subside. His voice was hoarse again when he spoke.

"Sure you want to be saddled with this old cripple for however long I last?" Phil asked. Johnny sighed, and kissed the top of his head.

"Long as you're okay being saddled with a hothead stunt driver who has no sense of self-preservation," Johnny said. "And you're not an old cripple. I want to see you get to actual old age, and I want to be there for the ride. And no matter how long it takes, I'm gonna help you get better. You'll be up and running again, scaring the shit out of junior agents before you know it. This'll all seem like a bad memory, I promise."

"Not a bad memory," Phil said, and he slung an arm around Johnny's back. "Brought you back to me."

"You only had to ask, and I would've been there."

"Yeah." He paused. Then, "Yes."

"Hmm?"

"Yes." Johnny still didn't get it. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Johnny grinned, and slipped the ring onto Phil's finger. "You won't regret it."

"I hope you won't, either."

"Never." Johnny kissed Phil's hand. "Get some more sleep. I'll call Susie and tell her she's gonna be a sister-in-law."

* * *

><p><strong>When my sister got engaged, she broke the news to Mum by asking whether she wanted to be a mother-in-law. When she broke the news to me, she told me I needed to get a bridesmaid dress. We have a thing for dramatic declarations in our family. I think that occasionally works its way into my writing. What do you reckon?<strong>

**Please review!**


	19. Coda

**Note: In 'The Agent and the Human Torch', the Fantastic Four get back to the Baxter post-Chitauri battle, and Alicia tells them that Phil is in a coma, which is the first they've heard about his injury. But what if they spoke to the Avengers first, who still think that Phil's dead? This is what may have happened… Hope it doesn't seem too OOC.**

"Coda"

Post-battle, all superheroes present congregated at the worst of the wreckage, where SHIELD agents were waiting with clothes for Bruce, and food and water for everyone, along with a fully-stocked medical team to treat on-site injuries.

"Oh, look who's coming," Tony said sarcastically, and he pointed to a group of four people. One of them broke away from the others, and approached the Avengers, still on his mobile.

"Look, I'll call again in a minute," he said. He hung up and sighed. "Ugh, voice mail."

"Storm," Tony said.

"Stark," he replied, and then ignored the billionaire. "Bruce Banner, isn't it?"

"Uh, yes," Bruce said. "Do I know you…?"

"Johnny Storm. You know my brother-in-law, Reed Richards."

Bruce brightened up. "Only by reputation. Is he here?"

"All four of us," Johnny said. Then he looked at the others. "Someone gonna introduce me?"

Tony was quick with the introductions, clearly irritated. Johnny was about to wander off, when he heard a familiar name.

"What?" he asked, spinning back to face them. Natasha shrugged, but she was pale, and shaking a little.

"Our handler," she said.

"His name was Phil," Tony murmured. Bruce squeezed his shoulder.

"Phil Coulson?" Johnny said, to clarify.

"That's right," Clint said. "Did you know him?"

"Did?" Johnny nodded. "Yes. Why?"

Steve cleared his throat. "He died. Phil… Agent Coulson… he died on the Helicarrier. Loki stabbed him through the chest, and the medics called it."

The rest of the Fantastic Four were approaching, but Johnny was in no fit state to notice. He barely noticed that his head was spinning.

Phil. Dead. His Phil was dead. That was why he wasn't answering his cell. He was dead. Johnny hadn't seen him in five years, never got to speak to him or hold him or kiss him or tell him that he lo—

"Storm? Storm, are you…? Holy shit, he's passing out!"

Someone grabbed him under the arms, but it was too late. Johnny blacked out.

"What happened?" Susan shouted, running to her brother's side. Steve carefully laid him down, and Bruce started checking him for wounds.

"He just fainted," Steve said.

"Why?"

"I don't know! We were just talking."

"About what?" Susan asked, and she stroked Johnny's cheek. "Wake up, sweetie."

"A friend of ours died," Clint said. "Storm said he knew him."

"Who was it?" Reed said. He rested his hand on Susan's hair as she waited for Bruce to give a diagnosis.

"Phil Coulson."

Susan, Reed, and Ben all looked at him, and went still. Clint glanced sideways at Natasha, who shrugged.

"You knew him longer than I did," she said.

"Only five years."

"We met him eight years ago," Reed said. "He…" Then he squatted down beside Susan, and hooked his arm around her shoulders. "God. Phil's dead?"

"And you were talking about this with Johnny?" Ben asked.

"Yeah," Clint said. "He was our handler."

"Yours and Romanov's," Tony said, his eyes narrowed. "Not ours. He should've been, but he wasn't." His gaze snapped to the three conscious members of the Fantastic Four. "What was he to you?"

"He was…" Susan shook her head, unable to continue.

"Liaison for SHIELD," Ben said shortly.

"And Johnny's…" Reed trailed off. "So you told him that Phil Coulson was dead, and then he passed out."

"No obvious signs of injury," Bruce said, and he sat back on his haunches. "I recommend x-rays—"

"That's not necessary," Susan said. A tear dropped off the end of her nose, and she sniffed. "He isn't injured."

"You don't know that—"

"He and Phil went out together," Ben said. "For three years. Then Phil broke it off, but Johnny nearly killed himself over it. Satisfied?"

The Avengers stood in stunned silence, as did the medical team working around them. Johnny groaned as he regained consciousness, and Susan helped him sit up slowly.

"We're gonna get you to a hospital so you can be checked for internal injury," Bruce said, but Johnny waved him off.

"I wanna go home," he said, and he turned his face into Susan's shoulder. She wrapped her arms tightly around him.

"Of course you do," she said. "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry."

Johnny didn't say anything; just held her, wishing the world would end.

When he thought about it, he realised that his world _had_ ended.

* * *

><p>When they arrived back at the Baxter, and finally got to the top floor, Reed helped Johnny out. Ben followed them out – the elevator had been reinforced a long time ago – and he went straight over to Alicia.<p>

"We have to tell you something," he said. Before he could speak, Johnny let out the sob he'd been trying to suppress. Alicia held her husband's rocky arm.

"You've heard, then," she said.

"You know?"

"Director Fury called, just two minutes ago."

Johnny was unsteady on his feet again, and Reed began to lead him over to the sofa. Ben sighed.

"He's taking it hard," he said.

"Johnny," Alicia began. Johnny stumbled over the carpet, nearly hitting the coffee table.

"What?" he asked.

"Director Fury said that he'll let you know as soon as you visit."

"Visit?" Johnny said. "There are lots of other people who can identify his body. They don't need m-me." His lower lip trembled as he tried to breathe in, and Reed tried to coax him to sit down. Johnny kept wavering on his feet.

"Identify his body?" Alicia said. "Are we talking about the same person?"

"Alicia, who are you talking about?" Susan asked.

"Phil Coulson." Johnny whimpered at the name, but Alicia powered on. "He's in a coma. He was stabbed, and nearly bled out, but he's still alive. Fury said he would call if there were any significant changes."

"He's…" Johnny's legs gave way, and he sagged onto the sofa with an audible thud. "Phil's alive? But the Avengers think he's dead!"

"Fury told them that, but he wanted you to know the truth. I don't think he anticipated you talking to them first."

Johnny's throat was closed up, and it took Reed slapping him on the back to get his lungs working again. But then it was a sob, and another, and another, until sobs gave way to laughter. He cried and laughed in relief, and clung to his sister until, strung out from the day's exertions, he fell asleep.

When Johnny woke up, curled on the sofa, it took him a few minutes to remember why he was there. It helped that the others were watching a report about the battle on the news.

"Phil," he mumbled.

"He's still alive, Johnny," Susan said. Johnny groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Wanna see him," he said.

"Get cleaned up first, then yeah. I'll call Director Fury, and you can go see him. Do you want us there?"

He shrugged. "Can come if you like." He stretched as he stood up, wincing at the pull in his sore muscles. He turned up the heat, loosening them, as he shuffled into his bedroom. Susan was on the phone before he'd even closed his door.

The shower woke him. Inexplicably, Johnny found himself remembering his first time with Phil, pressed against the tiles. He leaned back, letting the water run over him, and shivered. He'd almost lost Phil. Not that Phil was his anymore; but he had been once, and Johnny wanted Phil to be his again.

If Phil lived through this.

"C'mon," he hissed, hitting his fist against the wall beside him. "Sooner I'm done, sooner I can see him."

After a pep talk while he dried off, Johnny got changed into more comfortable clothes, fireproof boxers and shirt on underneath. He grabbed his wallet and keys, shoved them into his pocket, and ventured back into the living space. The others were also dressed and ready to go. There was a small part of him that wanted to keep Phil to himself, but he'd been their friend, part of their family, for three years. It'd be selfish to ask them to stay here.

"We'll say hi, and then leave you to it," Alicia said. How could she tell what he was thinking? It's not like she could even read his body language! "Do you want to take a change of clothes with you?"

"Nah," he said, even though the idea appealed to him. "I don't wanna presume. And if he's just sleeping, there's no point in staying there, right?"

"Your call, Johnny," Ben said. Johnny looked at the carpet.

"We can send something around later, if you decide to stay," Susan said. "Just don't rush in and out again."

"We'll get some flowers first," Reed said. "That's what you do, isn't it? When someone's in hospital? I mean, it still applies for coma patients, doesn't it?"

Johnny rolled his eyes and Susan poked Reed in the side.

* * *

><p>They walked into the private hospital room, where Fury was waiting. He eyed them, and nodded to the shelf. Reed stretched around Johnny to place the flowers and card there, while Johnny stroked Phil's hair. He looked so vulnerable… <em>was<em> so vulnerable like this, that it physically hurt the Human Torch. He fingered the breathing tube, then leaned over and kissed the corner of Phil's mouth.

"I love you," he whispered. Maybe coma patients could hear; maybe they couldn't. There wasn't much chance that Phil would remember, anyway, even if he heard Johnny. It felt wrong for the others to hear it first, but they'd probably known all along. That was the impression Johnny had gotten when they were in the car on the way to the hospital.

The others really did only stay for a couple of minutes, each giving Phil their support in quiet voices and with soft gestures. Ben edged out of the room first, with Alicia holding his arm, followed by Reed and then Susan. Fury paused at the door.

"I know he hurt you, Storm," he said. "He didn't mean to. He was trying to do the right thing, believe it or not."

"I guess," Johnny said, and he sat in the chair he'd pulled closer. He was still holding Phil's hand. "Didn't know it'd hurt right away. It took awhile. If I'd worked it out sooner, d'you think he would've taken me back?"

"It's possible," Fury said. "It depends on when you worked it out."

"When the world nearly ended a week later."

"Hmm." The director of SHIELD nodded. "I think he definitely would've wanted to see you then. Of course, it would've been nice to have known what you knew." He frowned extra hard at Johnny, who merely rested his head beside Phil's arm, just wanting to be closer to him.

"Well, we didn't have a SHIELD liaison anymore," he said, though it was a lame excuse, he knew. "Do you think Phil could want me again? He once said he loved me… the night before he dumped me." Fury flinched, almost imperceptibly. "D'you think he could love me again?"

Fury glanced from Johnny to Phil, then back again. "I don't think he ever stopped. Have a good night, Storm. I'll make sure they bring you an overnight bag by tonight. Oh, and do me a favour? Don't tell the Avengers that Phil's alive. Not yet."

"Course not," Johnny said. He could've asked Fury why not, but Phil's hand was soft, and his arm was warm, and he was so close to Johnny that the scars on his wrists ached.

"Goodnight, Phil," Fury said.

Of course there was no reply. So Johnny shuffled closer still, and watched Phil for a long time.

* * *

><p>On the third morning, Johnny struggled awake when he heard someone in the room. It was one of the nurses, who was checking Phil's stats. Her eyes narrowed, and then she smiled.<p>

"Looks like he's about to wake," she said. Johnny sat up straight.

"What?" he asked, instantly alert. Sure enough, Phil's heart-rate was higher. Johnny scrambled off the camper bed, nearly tripping on the sheet, and grabbed Phil's hand. He squeezed it, and Phil squeezed back weakly.

"He probably won't be lucid," the nurse warned. "It's early for a coma patient." Johnny just nodded, watching his former lover's face. There were a couple of twitches, and then his eyelids began to move. His lips parted a little, and he mumbled something unintelligible. His eyebrows drew together in obvious frustration. The nurse told him to take it slowly.

Finally, Phil managed something. It was quiet, but definitely clearer: "J'nny."

Johnny thought he'd misheard. "What?"

"J'nny," Phil said again. Within seconds, he was asleep again, heart-rate returning to normal and lines smoothing out.

"Well." The nurse was smiling. "Unless he knows a Jenny, I'd say there's a pretty good chance he was asking for you."

"He probably knew I was here."

"This is the first time he's been awake, if his vitals are anything to go by," she said. "It's possible that he thinks he's been dreaming about you."

"…Oh."

"Which is a good thing," she said. "After surgery like Phil's, and with the drugs he's been on, it's amazing that he's woken so soon, and even better if he's been having nice dreams. ICU patients tend to have nightmares."

"With all Phil's seen and done in the past, he'd have plenty of material," Johnny said, stroking the inside of Phil's wrist, skirting around the IV line. The nurse studied him.

"Help me move him," she said, coming around to the his side of the bed. "There should be enough room for the two of you, if you curl around his uninjured side."

Light-headed at the prospect, Johnny helped her shift Phil, as gently as possible, sending some of his warmth through to the wound site to soothe it. Then he climbed up onto the other side of the hospital bed, and settled with his left arm supporting Phil's neck, right hand resting beside the bandages over Phil's chest, and his right leg hooked over Phil's knees. He settled there, and half-smiled at the nurse.

"Thank you," he whispered. She patted his back.

"It'll help," she said. "Keep him warm."

"I will."

* * *

><p>Johnny stayed there while other people visited, not ashamed of clinging onto the past in a physical sense. He rested his cheek against his arm, chin touching Phil's shoulder, and peered at every visitor who approached. Fury called him a guard dog; Susan called him a guardian angel; Reed called him a guardian devil. Johnny stayed put.<p>

When Phil awoke a second time, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Johnny's face, as Johnny hovered overhead, studying him.

"Hey," Johnny said. "Heard you got stabbed."

"Yeah," Phil said, the word drawn out. "Johnny?"

"That's me."

"I… thought of…" Then he began to cough. Johnny sat up as the nurse he'd summoned came into the room. He administered ice chips and checked Phil's stats.

"I'll let the doctor know," he said, before disappearing again. Johnny returned his full attention to Phil.

"You were saying?" he said.

"You," Phil said, staring into Johnny's eyes. "Thought… of you. When… dying."

"Your last thoughts were of me?" Phil nodded slowly. Tears prickled in Johnny's eyes. "Why?"

"Re… regrets," Phil said. "Left… you."

"I love you," Johnny said. "I have for a long time. You can't leave me again. If… if you wanted to get back together, that is—"

"Yes," he said firmly. It seemed to take more energy than he had, as his eyes fluttered closed again. "Yes."

"Is that a yes for getting back together?" Phil nodded, just barely. "We can talk about this again when you're more lucid. It's not even been a week, you stubborn bastard. I'm glad you heal quickly, don't get me wrong. But don't tire yourself out, either, okay? I'll be here for as long as you want me."

"F'rever."

Johnny grinned as he curled back around his agent. "Forever," he agreed.

* * *

><p><strong>This is the extended version of how Johnny could have found out that Phil was in a coma. Extended as in more than twice the original length, with a reference to Johnny calling Phil post-battle, only for the call to go to voicemail. I thought it added an extra dimension of angst for the Human Torch. Because, as I would say to Mum, I'm a cruel child. (Well, only a child in certain mentalities.)<strong>

**Am I encouraging people to write more Coulstorm? Serious kind of Coulstorm? Sigh. I hope so.**

**Review, my dears! One last coda to go.**


	20. Coda 2

**Italicised excerpt from chapter ten.**

"Coda 2"

_At the door, he breathed in calmly, and breathed out calmly. (S)words had sent him a message saying that he was finishing work early, and would get a table by the window for them if he got there first. Johnny ducked his head, sunglasses and cap providing some disguise, and walked into the diner. He went to get a drink at the counter first, and used the mirror behind it to check the tables by the windows. Rose, rose, ro— Phil?_

_Johnny's heart caught in his throat. He forced his eyes downwards, and saw a flower in his hands. No one else at the window tables had a rose, and not all the window tables were taken, so…_

He couldn't get his hopes up. Not yet. He had to make sure. But how? Take a covert picture of Phil and send it to (S)words, and ask if it was him? Or…

Johnny slipped out of Phil's line of sight, and bent over, tucking his sunglasses into his pocket.

"Hey, kid," he whispered, tapping a boy on the shoulder. The kid looked up at him, and his eyes widened.

"Yeah, mister?" he said.

"Could you do something for me?" Johnny asked. "I need you to take a note to that guy over there, and bring back his reply. I promise, he's absolutely safe."

"How d'you know?" the kid said.

"`Cause I know him. He works in law enforcement. He's like a… like a spy."

"Cool!" the boy said, sitting up straight. "What's the message? Is it in code? I hope it's in code!"

Johnny scrawled 'Do you prefer the sword or the word?' onto a disposable napkin, using the pen he always carried with him for autographs. He handed the napkin to the kid.

"I'll be over here," he said, pointing to a booth which would hide him from Phil. "Just give him the note and get a reply, either in writing or spoken. Okay?" The boy nodded. "Thanks. I'll give you fifty for it."

"Fifty cents?"

"Fifty dollars."

The boy's jaw dropped, and he ran over to Phil. Johnny had just enough time to duck into the booth. He sat there, heart racing, while he listened to the kid talking to Phil. Thankfully, he just explained that 'some guy' had given him the note, and wanted a reply. While he waited, Johnny pulled a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet. He soon heard rapid footsteps, and the kid was by his side again.

"Okay," he said. "The guy said 'I'm adaptable. You?' I guess you're the 'you' he meant."

It felt like an explosion in his chest. Dizzying, intense. Slowly, Johnny grinned. Trying to regain awareness of his surroundings, he handed the money to the kid.

"Thanks," he said. "You earned every penny, kid."

"Not a problem, mister," the boy said. "Bye!"

Johnny waved absently. The fire in his chest dimmed, although it threatened to flare up when he sensed someone approaching. He would recognise that suit anywhere, and dragged his gaze up. The blood drained out of Phil's face as he stared at Johnny.

"Hey," Johnny said. He swallowed deeply, and then, trembling at the knees, got to his feet.

"Johnny," Phil said. "What're you… are you JR?"

"Yeah," Johnny said. "And you're the guy I'm meeting. Swords?"

"Well, swords and shields go together," Phil mumbled. He clasped his hands, feet shoulder-width apart, falling into his preferred stance. Johnny glanced at the table.

"Should we… do you want a drink?" he asked. "That's why we're here. To meet up, get to know each other—"

"John… Mr. Storm, we used to know each other very well," Phil said. Johnny felt anger flare up inside at Phil's attempt to distance himself.

"Yeah, well it's been six years since you dumped me," he said. "A lot can happen in six years. And since you left after telling me you loved me, I think you owe me this much."

"Owe you?" Phil stared at him incredulously. "I said I loved you, and _you_ responded by saying that you'd found someone else."

"Who turned out to be you!"

"I didn't know that!"

"Neither did I!"

They watched each other in silence for a moment. Then Johnny bit his lower lip, fighting the fire which wanted to burst out.

"Phil," he tried again, softer. "I should've said I loved you. The other day, and… I guess, six years ago. I should've run after you, instead of letting you get away. Maybe you wouldn't've almost died, if I was there to help you fight."

"There's nothing you could've done to change things, Johnny," Phil said, sounding tired.

"I don't know. Haven't you ever heard of the butterfly effect?"

Phil sighed. "Regardless…"

"No," Johnny said firmly. He moved forward, causing Phil to tense. Damn it. "Just… you said that you loved me, right?"

"Yes."

"So you won't deck me if I kiss you, right?"

"…Uh, no. Probably n—"

"Good."

Then Johnny stopped his words in an effective way. He ran his tongue along Phil's lower lip, coaxing him to open his mouth, and smirked when Phil complied, melting against him. He tilted his head, stepping into Phil's space, and wrapped his arms around Phil's back. The agent – _his_ agent – grasped Johnny's upper arms, stroking and squeezing the muscles hidden beneath the shirt. He didn't want it to end.

…However, he didn't want it to continue in a public place. The applause and laughter was his cue to draw back. Phil whined softly, trying to follow Johnny's lips. But when the noise around them registered, he turned bright red and buried his face in Johnny's chest. Johnny heard a rueful chuckle, so he figured the damage wasn't too bad.

And they each ended up getting a free drink out of it. But the best prize of the day was Phil, and damned if Johnny wasn't going to make him stick around forever.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! And I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed imagining the many different situations. I plan to round off this series with a final one-shot, which will be posted… I don't know when. Hopefully not much longer after this.<strong>


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